


Ephemera

by Clytemnestrasrevenge



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alcohol, All Characters are Simultaneously Living and Dead Depending on How You Look at It, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Artists, Alternate Universe - Singer, Angst, Cigarettes, Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, Lingerie, M/M, Smut, Speakeasies, Time Travel, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:20:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 43,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24971455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clytemnestrasrevenge/pseuds/Clytemnestrasrevenge
Summary: ‘...Established in 1893, Club Fantasia has been operating as a drinking den for almost one hundred and thirty years. From 1920 to 1929, prohibition era, the club migrated underground and the ground floor was used as a cigar shop to avoid suspicion from the authorities...'(AKA: the time travel fic that's Part of the Insa Fic Collab.)
Relationships: Han Sanghyuk | Hyuk/Lee Jaehwan | Ken, Lee Hongbin/Lee Jaehwan | Ken
Comments: 16
Kudos: 15
Collections: Insa Fic Collab





	Ephemera

**Author's Note:**

> I tried my best to use facts whenever possible, so most of the historical information in this story is accurate. As is the slang, although it makes me cringe so I kept it to a minimum. Also, Hongbin uses she/her pronouns, no big deal. 
> 
> *Also, I wrote this entire fic out by hand first and then typed it up afterwards, as a sort of challenge/experiment lol*
> 
> Song Lyric translation [Here](https://twitter.com/song_trans/status/1263047523049934849)

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

Jaehwan gathered up the overnight bag he’d packed: a few shirts, a hoodie, clean boxers, and a spare pair of sweats. He stuffed his tablet and smart pen between the clothes so they wouldn’t get damaged and slung the bag over his shoulder. Jaehwan left the apartment at a jog.

It was seven pm. He was going to see his forever-girlfriend for the weekend, just like he did every weekend. She was at university, which was a two-hour bus ride away. Last year, she’d gotten bored of her 9-to-5 job as an HR assistant and decided to enroll, albeit a bit late. And when she’d been accepted to her dream school, Jaehwan had been so proud of her. He hadn’t thought it through though, hadn’t realized that it would mean her both moving _out_ and moving _away._ But he had kept his mouth shut and was as supportive as he could possibly have been.

So, Jaehwan had become the ‘commuter boyfriend’. Leaving to visit her every Friday night as soon as the newest chapter of his webcomic was posted. Jaehwan didn’t have a car, he lived in a city with a public transit system so efficient it bordered on miraculous. Why would he need a car? But the system had let him down at this juncture. The only way to get to her campus was either an early morning or mid-evening bus. Jaehwan opted for the late option.

Jaehwan hopped on the subway, was jostled by strangers for roughly fifteen minutes, and then wound his way through downtown’s central bus terminal until he reached his spot. That particular departure spot was located as far as possible from the terminal's entrance, one of those plastic little huts waiting to shelter him until his bus arrived. He still had forty minutes to go before it showed up. But, he supposed, it was better to be early than late.

He kept the strap of his bag across his body and sat down to wait, listening to the low rumble of city nightlife all around him.

While he sat, staring at nothing in particular, he thought about his girlfriend. They had been so in love once. That kind of easy, stupid love that is so prolific amongst the young. They were inseparable. Until she moved away, that is, and it was no longer physically possible to be inseparable. Jaehwan still loved her, of course he did, but he was also very aware that she was outgrowing him. People change.

She’d finally done it the previous week. Broken up with him. Or, she’d _tried._ She’d done it on video chat as well, just adding that extra bit of sting, telling Jaehwan that she still loved him, but she didn’t think they were going to work out. That it would be better for both of them if they went their separate ways. But Jaehwan wasn’t going to let her go that easily. He’d convinced her to meet up one more time. A final visit so that he could remind her exactly why their relationship was strong enough that it lasted for _twelve fucking years._ And she’d agreed, after a lot of back-and-forth. Jaehwan knew he was basically on probation. That this visit was a test for her to see how well he would handle a mature conversation about their future, and if he fucked it up, she was going to dump him again.

Jaehwan wouldn’t let that happen. He was determined to be perfect. He couldn’t imagine what being single would be like at this point in his life. Sure, he wanted to stay with her, but above all else, Jaehwan was petrified of being alone.

There were no other riders waiting under the shelter yet, it was still too early, and Jaehwan accidentally dozed off with his thoughts still consumed by worry.

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

When he woke up, everything was wrong.

Had he even woken up?

The city was still making its little rumbly noises, but they were _different_ noises. He couldn’t pinpoint the difference exactly, but they _were_ different.

Jaehwan looked around, baffled. It had gotten very dark, but that wasn’t the only thing wrong. The bus shelter under which he was sitting wasn’t plastic and plexiglass anymore. It wasn’t even a shelter at all, just a wooden bench, painted dark green and situated beside a signpost.

“What the fuck?” Jaehwan mumbled, staring around through wide eyes. He still had his bag, which was both reassuring and disconcerting. Could he be dreaming if he could feel its overstuffed weight slung across his body? The strap slightly digging into his shoulder?

A car -not a normal car, a sleek, vintage looking mother fucker with too-big wheels and comically round headlights- drove past him at maybe 25mph. Jaehwan gawked at it, even as it kicked into reverse and came to a stop right in front of him. It was painted maroon with a black cloth hood. Not that that mattered in any way shape or form, Jaehwan’s brain was having trouble processing what was going on and it decided to latch onto unimportant details instead.

“The next bus doesn’t leave until tomorrow.”

Jaehwan blinked. At first, his stupefied mind thought that the car was talking to him. But it wasn’t the car, it was the driver.

“Are you alright, mister?” the driver called again, most likely taken aback by Jaehwan’s staring. On closer inspection, the driver turned out to be a man. He had dark hair slicked artfully back off an angular face, long fingers curled loosely around the top of the steering wheel. And he was apparently concerned by the lack of verbal responses he was getting.

“What the fuck is _that?”_ was all Jaehwan could manage.

The strangers' look of confusion increased. “What’s what?”

Jaehwan waved a hand around to indicate the car.

“It’s- it is an automobile,” the driver replied, a small, wary smile breaking across his face, “A Chevrolet H-4, the baby grand touring model to be specific.”

This guy sounded like he was serious and Jaehwan didn’t really have any way to debate the validity of his statements. He knew nothing about cars, only googling the occasional Ferrari for a drawing reference.

The driver laughed suddenly. A charming laugh that managed to throw Jaehwan even more off balance than he already was, which really shouldn't have been possible all things considered. “What exactly is it that you’re wearing? Are you a street performer?”

Jaehwan looked down at himself and then back up at the car. “It’s an Adidas fucking tracksuit and no I’m not, are you from mars?!”

The driver pursed his lips, giving Jaehwan an appraising once-over. “Hop in.”

“Pardon?”

“I said, hop in,” the driver repeated, grinning a very boyish grin. “I told you, the bus doesn’t come ‘round again ‘til tomorrow. I’ll give you a lift to wherever you need to go.”

Well. There was a big fat red flag, waving right in front of Jaehwan’s face like a matador taunting a bull. “Fuck no!” he called back, closing his eyes and hugging his bag to his chest. Maybe when he opened them, everything would go back to normal.

It didn’t. Instead of going back to normal, Jaehwan heard a car door open and close, and then the sound of approaching footsteps.

Right at that instant, something clicked in Jaehwan’s head. Like the lock of a jail cell door, sealing him in from the outside. It was an _insane_ thought, he was barely able to comprehend it, but it would certainly help make sense of the weird bench and lack of skyscrapers and the strange dude with a strange car. But it couldn’t be. Seriously. It _couldn’t._

“Poor little bunny. Are you alright?” the guy asked again, from much closer this time. He talked weird, Jaehwan finally noticed. Spoke in what Jaehwan sort of remembered being called a Trans-Atlantic accent. The way people used to talk in old Hollywood movies. “Really, do you have somewhere to go? Are you sick?”

Jaehwan cracked one eye open. Same dude, same car, same bench, only now, the dude was crouching in front of him.

Jaehwan stared at him. He was wearing a gorgeous navy pinstripe three-piece suit, the kind of look that nobody in the 21st century could pull off. An errant lance of attraction stabbed through Jaehwan, both horribly timed and totally unwanted. His _‘easily excitable libido acting up again,’_ as his girlfriend used to call it, giggling whenever Jaehwan would get caught staring at random guys. Or, probably ex-girlfriend now, Jaehwan lamented, looking into the stranger’s lustrous dark eyes through the lenses of his wire-rim glasses. She probably thought he’d bailed, given up on their relationship just like she had. Because as far as his rational brain could understand, Jaehwan didn’t think his bus was ever going to come.

“What-” Jaehwan’s voice cracked when he tried to ask the fateful question and he had to start over. “What year is it?”

The man arched a brow. “Why, it’s 1920, of course.”

And just like that, Jaehwan burst into tears. Ugly tears. Not cute little heart wrenching sobs. Big _‘my whole universe just crumbled around me and I don't know what to do’_ tears. The kind where you can't breathe properly and snot is leaking everywhere, and you can already feel your eyelids getting puffy. Tears of grief.

“No! Please, I’m sorry, don’t cry!” the man exclaimed, flapping his hands around like he didn’t know what else to do. “I didn’t mean to upset you!”

“Tell me you were joking,” Jaehwan pleaded, sobbing as he looked into the man's panicked face.

“Joking about what?!”

“The year!”

“Oh... no, I’m afraid I wasn’t.” The man reached out and patted Jaehwan’s knee in an obvious attempt to be comforting. “What year do you think it is?”

“2020!”

The man’s expression shifted from concern, to baffled, and finally to a sort of forced calm in roughly two seconds. “Alright,” he said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing Jaehwan’s tears away, “Alright, why don’t you come with me, hm? I have to go to work now but you can relax and have a drink until I’m done, and then I’ll take you home so you have somewhere to sleep.”

The man probably assumed Jaehwan was a lunatic, Jaehwan thought, taking the proffered square of white cotton and blowing his nose. Maybe he _had,_ in fact, gone insane. Jaehwan wanted to cry louder and scream and smash something and start running, like maybe if he ran fast enough, he could run back home, but he didn’t. And, not having any other ideas, he nodded. Allowed the stranger to gently lead him to the car. He opened the passenger door for Jaehwan and Jaehwan slid inside, suddenly weary down to his bones.

Jaehwan would have prayed, but praying had done fuck-all for him in the past so why would now be any different? He didn’t even bother trying.

“What’s your name?”

“Jaehwan,” said Jaehwan, sniveling and wiping the last few rogue tears from his cheeks. He tried to give the handkerchief back, but the man just smiled and shook his head.

“Why don’t you hold on to that,” he replied politely. Probably didn’t want to touch something coated in crazy person germs. Jaehwan couldn’t blame him. “And it’s nice to meet you, Jaehwan, my name is Sanghyuk.”

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

Head still spinning at the news that he was somehow in the year 1920, and not yet entirely convinced that it wasn’t some sort of hallucination or extremely vivid lucid dream, Jaehwan was seated on a barstool in what may be the coolest place he’d ever been.

His new friend wouldn’t say the exact name of where he worked. Jaehwan had asked several times during the ride in the weird car, Sanghyuk only muttering something about a cigar shop in response.

But when they’d arrived, Sanghyuk had looped an arm through Jaehwan’s and led him up to a rather nondescript door, rang a buzzer, whispered something that Jaehwan hadn’t been able to make out, and then they’d been ushered inside. Through a dark passageway and down a stone staircase, finally ending up in a vast underground room that looked like it had been dipped in copper.

The red brick walls reached just over two stories in height, warm yellow light spilling from art-deco sconces and a chandelier that appeared to have been modeled after the sun itself. There was a wooden bar counter along one wall and lots of scattered tables, as well as scores of fancy people dressed in vintage attire. Jaehwan felt like he was at a roaring twenties themed costume party.

Sanghyuk had sat Jaehwan down on a stool just behind the bar (not in front of it like normal, sitting or standing in front of the bar apparently _‘isn’t done’_ here) and left him in the care of the bartender, with promises to take Jaehwan home as soon as his set was finished. The bartender, a large man with a deep voice and a gentle smile, introduced himself as Wonshik. He’d offered Jaehwan a Gin Rickey (a type of cocktail Jaehwan had never tasted before) and Jaehwan had accepted it gratefully.

He’d taken it, drained it, and then asked for another, pulling a ten-dollar bill from his wallet and offering it as payment. Wonshik had gawked at him for a solid three second, then hastily put the bill back in Jaehwan’s wallet and flailed until Jaehwan put the wallet away. Jaehwan thought maybe it hadn’t been enough, drink prices could get stupid high in fancy bars, so he’d tried to offer more, but Wonshik just shushed him and gave him a fresh cocktail.

Now, Jaehwan clutched his glass in both hands, eyes closed, taking tiny sips like a sleepy child taking medicine. Lamenting the strange and ridiculous turn that his life had taken. His girlfriend's face kept appearing behind his closed lids like they were miniature projector screens.

He knew it was sometime around midnight, although the fancy watch he’d splurged three months’ worth of paychecks on had stopped working. It must have gone haywire when he time traveled- _time traveled,_ Jaehwan thought the words sounded ludicrous even without speaking them aloud. He should have arrived two hours ago. She would have been waiting at the bus terminal for him.

Jaehwan didn’t know how long she’d have waited for him, probably not too long after the bus he should have been on came and went. Him not showing up was the final nail in their relationship’s coffin. She most likely wouldn’t even have called. Just assumed Jaehwan had flaked rather than face their inevitable breakup like an adult.

He _would_ have done it, would have looked that tragedy in the face. He’d been prepared to beg and plead and bare his soul so she wouldn’t leave him. Because what else did he have? His webcomic was moderately popular and he was making solid money doing something he loved. But a webcomic couldn’t kiss him goodnight. It couldn’t hold him or facetime him just to show him a cute dog walking down the street.

_Fuck,_ Jaehwan felt like such utter shit that he couldn’t properly quantify it.

“Look, he’s up,” the bartender, Wonshik, murmured, tapping Jaehwan on the shoulder.

Reluctantly, Jaehwan opened his eyes. He peered into Wonshik’s smiling face and then in the direction Wonshik was pointing.

It wasn’t so much a stage as it was a miniature room that had been carved out of the wall. A life size diorama containing one piano, one unfamiliar man poised to play, and one Sanghyuk. Sans jacket and glasses, the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, black buttons down the front of his vest glittering in the yellow light like onyx. He was stunning, Jaehwan registered vaguely, the gin finally starting to warn his stomach once his second glass had been emptied.

Wonshik offered him a third and he took it. Jaehwan had never wanted to get drunk so badly in his entire life. And then the music started and Sanghyuk began to sing.

He had a lovely voice, heavy and warm, not quite a baritone and not quite a tenor either. Something in between. Easy on the ears. The kind of voice Jaehwan wouldn’t mind playing on repeat for a few hours.

“So, he’s a lounge singer? Or- is this a lounge? Where am I exactly?” Jaehwan asked quietly. Wonshik looked at him like he was speaking Latin. “Not exactly a _lounge,_ no, more of an underground club, if you catch my meaning.”

Wonshik winked. Jaehwan didn’t catch his meaning.

“You know...” Wonshik urged, flashing a coaxing little smile, “To avoid the law...”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Is this _not_ a bar?” Jaehwan asked, habitually pulling out his phone to check it. No signal. Duh.

Wonshik had been in the process of shushing him again but went quiet at the sight of the phone. Oh shit. It was probably a bad idea to show these people what essentially amounted to witchcraft. Violated the Prime Directive or something like that. Jaehwan didn’t fancy getting himself burned at the stake. Although, at this point, life as he knew it was over. So what if he was burned for being a witch? Nobody would care.

“What is that?” Wonshik asked, almost poking the screen but aborting the movement halfway before he made contact.

“It’s a phone,” Jaehwan replied, pocketing it and snatching his glass from the edge of the counter. “I’m from the future, don’t worry about it.”

Wonshik refrained from asking any more questions, only hovering around Jaehwan when he wasn’t tending to real customers. Jaehwan sat quietly and listened to Sanghyuk sing. After his fourth Gin Rickey, once he was pleasantly warm and fuzzy and the pain of losing his real life had been sufficiently dulled, he switched to water. Evening out the buzz and keeping him lucid as he watched Sanghyuk perform.

It was almost magical, the way Sanghyuk looked up there. Illuminated by a dim spotlight and crooning into one of those classic vintage standing mics. Jazzy background accompaniment from the piano.

Jaehwan wasn’t the kind of drunk that whined and cried and got sulky. Not even in these particular world-ending circumstances apparently. He was happy and giggly and even a bit touchy, petting at Wonshik’s arm whenever he was within range. That hint of consistency was comforting at least. He was a silly drunk, even in 1920.

With his watch not working and no clock visible nearby, Jaehwan wasn’t sure how long he sat in his corner for. He’d gone to the bathroom (a guilt-mirrored and emerald-tiled affair) twice, and Wonshik’s shift (he had been replaced by a man named Hakyeon who was much more receptive to Jaehwan’s alcohol induced touchiness) had ended by the time Sanghyuk was done. Leaving the little stage nook to a chorus of applause.

The piano guy continued to play, a subdued rendition of the kind of music one usually heard in posh department stores. Jaehwan was almost sober again. His steady intake of water had helped, and he didn’t even feel all that sick. No pre-hangover to speak of. Just soft and buzzy and slightly tired.

He’d gotten the address of the mysterious bar from Hakyeon and, unless a whole fuckton of streets had been reorganized, Jaehwan knew where he was. Five blocks south and then a right for two more, and he’d be home. Or where his home would be in a century, anyway. He didn’t have a home anymore. He had nowhere to live, no job... those were things he should start seriously considering. What the fuck was he going to do?

“Enjoy the show?” Sanghyuk appeared at Jaehwan’s side, jacket in the crook of one arm and glasses once again perched on the bridge of his nose. His brow was a bit damp from sweat.

“Yes, very much,” Jaehwan replied. He set his water glass down on the counter, watching Sanghyuk accept a tumbler of what he guessed was scotch. Neat.

“So, would you mind introducing me properly, Hyukkie? Your friend has been _very_ entertaining company, but who is he exactly?”

Sanghyuk took a sip, peering thoughtfully at Jaehwan over the rim of his glass. “I don’t know,” he hummed.

Jaehwan shifted under his gaze. Not uncomfortable exactly, but there was an odd kind of tension between them that hadn’t been there earlier. If Hakyeon noticed, he didn’t show it. “Well, that’s _mighty_ helpful, Hyukkie, thank you. Oh, and I have two messages to pass along.”

Sanghyuk looked away and Jaehwan allowed himself to resume breathing.

“The big boss says you’re on tomorrow night-” Sanghyuk pulled a face “-and Shik say’s your boy here is heavy on the sugar.”

“Me? Sugar?” Jaehwan asked, not sure how to react. The corner of Hakyeon’s mouth tugged up in a smirk. “Yeah, you. Means you’re loaded.”

“Loaded as in rich?! I’m not rich! I mean, I do alright but I don’t think most people would consider me rich,” Jaehwan replied, still confused. God, it was like these people spoke a different language.

“Shik said you tried to pay him ten dollars for a Rickey. You could buy 30 of them for that much, you know?”

_Oh._ Oh, right. Inflation. Jaehwan had forgotten about inflation. Well shit. He had roughly a grand in cash on him (concealed in an inside pocket of his overnight bag last year, emergencies only), maybe he _was_ rich. Hopefully his future-time currency would be accepted here.

Sanghyuk hummed thoughtfully. He drained his tumbler and took one of Jaehwan’s hands. “I’ll see you ‘round, Yeon, thanks for babysitting.”

_“Babysitting?!”_ Jaehwan squawked, indignant, but Sanghyuk simply smiled.

Jaehwan was pulled back across the main room and up the stairs and out the passage that led to the nondescript door. Cold air smacked him in the face and when he looked skyward, thousands of tiny stars were visible. The city was still roughly the same, as far as Jaehwan had seen, lack of skyscrapers aside. Buildings were still tall, and it was still packed, but there wasn’t as much light pollution as there was in the present. Normally when Jaehwan looked up at night, he saw nothing but darkness and usually fog. The fog was probably still around but tonight was clear, and the sight nearly took his breath away.

“Where are you taking me?” Jaehwan asked, allowing Sanghyuk to shepherd him back into the passenger seat of the weird car, “And you shouldn’t drive, you’ve been drinking!”

“I’m not drunk.”

“It’s still illegal!”

“So is liquor,” Sanghyuk deadpanned. That gave Jaehwan pause. Somehow, he’d managed to forget about prohibition. Also, he had less than no clue what the drink-drive laws were in 1920. Well fuck it, if he died in a car crash then he died in a car crash. And it _had_ only been one drink.

“Well anyway, where are you taking me?” Jaehwan repeated, giving up on that line of rational argument.

Sanghyuk flashed his boyish grin.

“Home.”

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

“Are you really sure you’re alright?” Sanghyuk asked, folding down the covers on Jaehwan’s new bed.

They had made it to Sanghyuk’s house in five minutes flat. It was crazy, _genuinely_ crazy, but if they’d been in 2020, Sanghyuk would have been Jaehwan’s fucking neighbor.

This was his apartment building, basically, even though it wasn’t technically an apartment. Jaehwan lived in a three-story Edwardian style house, painted several shades of bright purple, that had been divided up by the landlord into three separate units. Top, middle, and bottom. In the present, Jaehwan occupied the top floor and he loved his home. His purple ‘painted lady’, as those kinds of houses were commonly called. His girlfriend used to refer to the house as Barney.

Now, or, in the 20’s, the house _wasn’t_ purple. It was deep green with gold accents. But Jaehwan knew it, he’d recognize the facade anywhere no matter what color it was. This was his home, and at the same time, it wasn’t. Like looking at a faded photograph of the back of his own hand. Familiar, unmistakable to his eyes, but also slightly unsettling.

Reality was starting to feel very thin around Jaehwan. Nothing was as substantial as he needed it to be, nothing stable to grab on to. As soon as he’d entered the middle unit (a unit normally occupied by an old and rather grumpy lesbian, whose old and rather grumpy cat Jaehwan fed whenever she left town to visit her son), the situation had really, _really_ sunk in. Jaehwan felt ruined.

“I don’t know,” Jaehwan replied, voice sounding horribly foreign and mechanical to his own ears. The sight of this little spare bedroom (Jaehwan’s unit upstairs had one too, he used it as an office slash art studio slash game room) was making him itch.

Sanghyuk stopped fussing with the covers and glanced up, frowning. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“Why did you bring me here? Why didn’t you just leave me at the bus stop?”

Moving around the bed and taking Jaehwan’s hands in one of his with almost exaggerated care, Sanghyuk gave Jaehwan another one of those assessing once-overs. “I brought you,” he said, patient, quiet, “Because you didn’t have a place to stay.” He squeezed Jaehwan’s hands. “And you seemed like you were in a bad way.” A little tap under Jaehwan’s chin. “And your clothes are very funny.”

That last managed to startle a disjointed laugh from Jaehwan and Sanghyuk smiled, encouraging. “In short, you looked like you could use a friend. And I have this whole room that never gets used.”

“Normal people aren’t that nice,” Jaehwan muttered, suddenly very reluctant to let Sanghyuk’s hand go. He didn’t know this man from Adam, but Sanghyuk’s physical presence brought Jaehwan a drop of much-needed comfort.

“Maybe not where you’re from, but my mama raised me to be a gentleman. And she would have brought you home too.”

Oh. _His mama._ That soft little hint of a twang, enough to broadcast loud and clear that Sanghyuk wasn’t from around here. It sounded like he’d worked hard to change his speech patterns, conceal his accent. Probably wanting to come off more sophisticated or just to try and blend in with the locals.

The word only distracted Jaehwan for a moment before another hard truth stabbed him in the chest. His mom was dead. Or, not dead. She hadn’t been born yet. Come to think of it, nobody he knew had been born yet. And even if they had, they wouldn’t have known him. Because _he_ hadn’t been born yet either.

Jaehwan was alone. Really, truly alone. The thing he feared above all else. And he didn’t know how to go back.

It felt like he wasn’t in his body anymore. Floating in freefall, the ground was rushing up to meet him and he could do nothing to avoid impact. He couldn’t breathe, or more accurately, he was breathing too much. His heart was beating so fast it felt like his ribs were going to crack. Suffocating on a noxious mixture of panic and grief.

Sanghyuk was talking again, Jaehwan could hear him, muffled like his head was under water. He felt Sanghyuk’s hands on his face. Unfocused eyes taking in the worry written across Sanghyuk’s features. And then Sanghyuk was holding him. Placing Jaehwan’s hand on his chest and rubbing Jaehwan’s back.

Jaehwan could feel the steady rhythm of his pulse, the easiness of his deep breathing. Sanghyuk was solid under his hands, grounding him, a strong string that was keeping Jaehwan’s sanity tethered like it was a runaway kite.

It was several minutes more before Jaehwan’s ears stopped ringing enough to be able to hear Sanghyuk speak. “You’re alright, everything is going to be alright. I’ve gotcha. I won’t let you fall.”

“You-” Jaehwan gave up on that sentence before he had even figured out what he was going to say. He tried again. “I know you probably think I’m crazy, but I’m not.” He had to stop to breathe and Sanghyuk waited patiently for him to continue. “I really am from the future. I was born in 1992, and earlier tonight I fell asleep in 2020 and woke up here. I don't know how to get back but I'm not lying and I'm not crazy, I promise.”

“I believe you.”

That was a fresh punch to the gut. The sincerity of it hurt in a brand-new way, but Jaehwan did his best to absorb the blow.

“I don’t understand it, but I believe you. I don’t think you’re crazy,” Sanghyuk sighed, pulling back a bit so he could look Jaehwan in the eye. One giant bearpaw of a hand cupping Jaehwan’s cheek. “Would you like a bath? Or a drink? Or a smoke? I don’t know how to help you relax.”

“No,” Jaehwan mumbled. Honestly, he’d fucking love a drink. To calm his nerves if nothing else. But what he needed above all else right then was, “Sleep.”

“Okay.” Sanghyuk released him, guiding him around the bed to where the blankets had been folded back, and helped Jaehwan settle in. It was a comfortable bed, real goose down pillows and soft cotton sheets. The linens all smelled faintly of lavender. Jaehwan didn’t have the energy left to cry, even if he’d wanted too.

“Now, you can stay here as long as you like. I don’t want you to worry about that. We’ll see what we can do about sending you back to the future but until then, you’re welcome here,” Sanghyuk said, tucking the covers up under Jaehwan’s chin.

There were several jokes to be made there, the movie reference, something about Sanghyuk keeping Jaehwan so he could murder and then eat him, but Jaehwan didn’t have the reserves of sarcasm required to pull them off.

He settled on a simple, “Thank you.”

Sanghyuk waved the gratitude away. With a final pat to the top of Jaehwan’s head and instructions to sleep in as long as he needed, Sanghyuk left the spare room. Shutting the door with a click.

Jaehwan lay in the dark and the quiet, mind fogged over with despair until merciful sleep finally took him.

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

The next morning when Jaehwan woke, he actually thought the whole ordeal was just some twisted nightmare. He didn’t open his eyes. Just lay there, breathing, luxuriating in the concept of normality. Everything was as it should be. The world was right.

But then he felt the brush of quilted cotton against his cheeks in place of his polyblend duvet, smelled a faint mixture of coffee and cigarettes, and Jaehwan’s hope dropped away. This wasn’t a nightmare. It wasn’t a hallucination. He had really gone back in time.

Getting a full night's sleep had helped considerably though. No longer being steamrolled by wave after wave of mental and physical exhaustion, Jaehwan was able to take a step back. Calm down. Assess the situation through a lens of logic and gain a bit more perspective.

Was he stuck here? _Yes._ With no idea how to get home? _Yes._ Was life as he knew it over? _Yes._

However: Were all of his friends and family members dead? _No, they were safe and alive in the present._ Was he homeless and starving? _No, he’d been rescued by a hot guy who’d given him a bed and would presumably feed him at some point._ Would he figure out a way to get back to 2020? _Yes, he would._

And in the meantime, Jaehwan would try to live as normal a life as possible, because spiraling into a panic would get him nowhere. One day at a time. Baby steps. Just think of it like a spontaneous vacation. Jaehwan wasn’t programmed for sulking or pessimism, it didn’t mesh with his personality. Everything would be okay.

Jaehwan got out of bed, stretching, feeling several satisfying cracks along his spine. He didn’t bother changing out of his now sleep-wrinkled tracksuit. A shower would be required first. But he _did_ take off his broken watch and set it on the nightstand.

Following his nose, Jaehwan made his way out to the living room. Breakfast dishes were scattered about and the coffee aroma was definitely getting stronger, but there was no Sanghyuk. Maybe he’d gone back to sleep? No, not sleeping. The back door was cracked open. Jaehwan knew this house well, and so it was no surprise when he slid the glass door open all the way and found a staircase. Solid wood planks sanded within an inch of their lives, small landings on the second and third floors, leading down into the communal backyard. 

And there was Sanghyuk, or the top of his head, seated beside an unfamiliar man with lanky black hair. Both of them had dressing gowns over their slacks and dress shirts, Sanghyuk’s a sturdy looking maroon cotton, the strangers made of black Chinese brocade, smoldering cigarettes balanced between their fingers. The sight made Jaehwan want to giggle for no discernible reason. Would he need to un-quit smoking? Like... to blend in? He’d gone through a brief but strongly hedonistic period while the majority of his friends were in college, drinking too much and smoking like a fucking chimney, but he’d grown out of that phase.

Jaehwan wished he’d paid more attention in his history classes.

“Good morning,” he called, nerves fizzling faintly as both men raised their faces to look.

Sanghyuk smiled and waved, the other man simply sitting and staring at him. Unnerving. The only way Jaehwan could think to describe him was ‘if Slenderman was a model but make it goth-er’. Or ‘a younger and sexier Professor Snape’. He continued to stare as Jaehwan rushed rather haphazardly down the stairs, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.

“I was thinking,” Jaehwan began with absolutely no preamble, coming to stand at Sanghyuk’s side, “I need something to do.” Keep busy, keep moving, that was Jaehwan’s new motto.

Sanghyuk looked at him quizzically, offering a soft pack of Lucky Strike’s. Jaehwan used to prefer Marlboro, and menthol for that matter, but need’s must. He took one and plucked Sanghyuk’s from his hand, using it to light his own. The nicotine hit him like a fucking train. Maybe his early 20’s were longer ago than he remembered.

“Elaborate?” Sanghyuk steadied Jaehwan with a hand on his waist, which was good, because Jaehwan nearly fell over from headrush. The tips of his fingers went all tingly. _Gotta build that tolerance back up._

Jaehwan hummed, giving his brain a moment to clear. “If I’m going to be here for a while, I need something to do. Like a job or something.” He flashed the stranger his most winning smile. “I’m Jaehwan, by the way. Nice to meet you, I’m from the-”

“Yes, I already told him,” Sanghyuk interrupted, squeezing Jaehwan’s hip for emphasis and widening his eyes before dropping his hand. “This is my neighbor, Taekwoon. He lives upstairs.”

“Hyukkie has told me about your unfortunate circumstances. Tragic. Simply tragic,” the man, Taekwoon, said. He had a high, airy speaking voice that didn’t match his ice queen vibe at all. And was that a hint of a British accent? No, just more Trans-Atlantic bullshit. Jaehwan hadn’t thought people really talked that way, even back then. Or back now.

Jaehwan didn’t know what kind of Tragic Backstory™ Sanghyuk had concocted for him, but whatever it was, it probably sounded a hell of a lot more sane than accidental time travel. So, Jaehwan played along.

“I know. It sucks.”

“Well, I think finding you a job is a capital idea,” Sanghyuk interjected again, not giving his friend a chance to ask more inconvenient questions. “What’s your talent?”

“I can sing, pretty fucking well actually.”

“That’s an easy one then, Hyukkie, he can work with you at Fantasia-”

“No,” Sanghyuk exclaimed, louder than necessary. It made Jaehwan jump the slightest bit. Fantasia must be the name of that bar.

“You haven't even heard me sing! I don’t know if I have nearly as much stage presence as you but-”

“No,” Sanghyuk repeated, looking more serious than Jaehwan had seen him so far. “I don’t want you working there. Out of the question.”

“Why not?”

“Just drop it, would you?”

Taekwoon cleared his throat, effectively breaking up the staring contest Jaehwan and Sanghyuk were having. “What other talents do you have?”

“I can draw. That was my job before-” Jaehwan paused, changing tack to avoid giving away the time travel stuff. “I’m an illustrator and a fiction writer.” That seemed the most 1920’s friendly way to call a digital artist and webcomic author. The word _digital_ was probably meaningless to these people.

The other two exchanged a pointed look, Sanghyuk’s demeanor changing from defiant to slightly shifty.

“Hyukkie said you are a fashion model.”

“Did he now?” Jaehwan asked, doing his utmost to roll with the punches as they came. But... a model? That seemed a bit ridiculous for a cover story. Jaehwan took a drag on his cigarette, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Sanghyuk’s face was flushed. Now, how to frame that lie in a more manageable way?

“I used to do the occasional bit of modeling here and there,” Jaehwan continued, tapping ash into the little porcelain dish on the table. Trying to appear nonchalant. “But now I’m an illustrator.”

Taekwoon gave no indication that he believed Jaehwan, verbal or otherwise. “What is your preferred medium?”

_Fuck,_ well he couldn’t say digital. Instead, Jaehwan decided to go with, “Pen and ink, but I’m relatively proficient in watercolors and pastels as well.” At least that wasn’t a lie, Jaehwan worked almost exclusively with his tablet now but he still knew his way around a pen and paper.

“Maybe he could work for you, Taek.”

Taekwoon tapped his bottom lip, looking off into the distance like someone looking out a window, waiting for their husband to come home from the war. _Très dramatique._

“Perhaps.”

Sanghyuk stamped out his cigarette, doing a little decisive clap that nearly made Jaehwan laugh again. “Good. I’ll send him up to you once he’s been fed and properly dressed.”

“I’m not a stray dog you adopted, you know, you don’t have to keep phrasing stuff like that,” Jaehwan muttered, leaving his own half-burned cigarette in the ashtray and waving goodbye to Taekwoon. One of Sanghyuk’s hands rested on the small of Jaehwan’s back, just for a moment, as he was shepherded back upstairs. It made Jaehwan’s skin tingle a little. _Stay focused, dumbass. Your girlfriend may have dumped you and you may be stuck in a different time period for the rest of your life, but don’t start thinking with your dick. That’ll get you nowhere._

Once they were back in the safe seclusion of the middle unit, Jaehwan asked, “What all did you tell him? And why did you say I'm a model? And- actually, who was that?”

“Easy, tiger,” Sanghyuk hummed, breezing past Jaehwan into the kitchen, “One question at a time.”

“Then let's start with who that was.”

“He,” Sanghyuk paused, pouring them both steaming mugs of coffee, “Is Jung Taekwoon. Designer of custom jewelry and glassware. His specialty is one-of-a-kind perfume bottles.”

Jaehwan was taken aback. “That’s quite a specific niche,” he replied, taking a proffered mug. “He must not be very good if he still lives here.”

“On the contrary. He moved to some ritzy place downtown when he started gaining popularity but was back within the year. Taekwoon thinks the house generates good creative energy. Something like that.”

Well, Taekwoon wasn’t wrong on that point. Jaehwan had often thought something similar.

“And why did you say I was a model? We could have come up with a plausible cover story together.”

To his surprise, Sanghyuk blushed again. A delightfully endearing dusting of pastel pink on his sharp cheeks. “No particular reason. Taek asked what all the noise was last night, and I said I had a guest. When pressed for details, I told him you were a model visiting from an obscure foreign capital he wouldn’t have heard of, and that your visa had expired so I was giving you room and board.”

“The foreign thing was smart, I guess, but a model?”

“It was the first thing that popped into my head! I was under heavy interrogation!”

Jaehwan was flattered, despite telling himself he shouldn’t be. “Nothing to be done about it now, I suppose.”

They drank their coffee in silence for a few minutes. Bitter, nothing like the tasty Starbucks that Jaehwan was used to, until Sanghyuk spoke again. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better this morning.”

“Don’t let appearances deceive you,” Jaehwan replied, “This is an exercise in forced calm. I still feel on the verge of a panic attack and will probably feel that way for a long time.”

“Even so,” Sanghyuk patted Jaehwan’s arm. “Let me show you the shower and find you something less... conspicuous to wear.”

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

“I look like I’m going to my first communion,” Jaehwan whined, looking himself over in Sanghyuk’s bathroom mirror.

The majority of Sanghyuk’s clothing was too big, but he’d managed to find a few things and pile them up on his bed while Jaehwan showered. Clean and sweet-smelling, skin dappled red from the hot water, Jaehwan had inspected all the items on offer. From the pile, he’d selected a pair of black trousers (still an inch too big in the waist), a white button-up that he’d been instructed to tuck in, and black suspenders with silver clasps. Sanghyuk had given him a belt to borrow as well as an undershirt, but Jaehwan had decided to stick with his own futuristic underwear.

The suspenders were what really pushed the outfit over the edge into costume territory.

“You don’t look like you’re going to first communion,” Sanghyuk replied, crossing his arms over his chest and giving Jaehwan an appraising up-and-down. “You look pretty swell.”

Jaehwan wanted to make fun of him for that, for unironically using the word _swell,_ because who the fuck talks like that? Everyone here, Jaehwan reminded himself, slightly bitter. It had been meant as a complement though, so Jaehwan let it go.

“At least our shoes are almost the same size,” he said, tapping his feet on the tiled floor like a tap dancer. Shiny black oxfords.

Sanghyuk snapped his fingers and walked out, leaving Jaehwan alone with his reflection for a moment before returning with something in his hand. A hat. It was an honest-to-god newsboy cap, black and grey tweed, and Sanghyuk held it out for Jaehwan to take.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes, Jaehwan! It’ll look so smart, come on!”

Jaehwan grumbled mutinously, snatching the hat away and putting it on backwards. “Smart enough?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Sanghyuk chuckled. He stepped closer and took the hat off, combing Jaehwan’s hair into place with his fingers before setting the hat back, facing the right direction. His smile kept on growing as he worked. Jaehwan wanted to punch him. “Here, have a look.”

Jaehwan looked.

“Utterly ridiculous!” Jaehwan exclaimed, pouting furiously at his own reflection. But he left the hat on. His girlfriend _-ex girlfriend, stop deluding yourself-_ would have liked it.

“Go see Taekwoon, and then we’ll go to the shops and find you some clothes that actually fit,” Sanghyuk replied, steering Jaehwan out of the bathroom and down the hall. He deposited Jaehwan at the back door and gave him a pat on the back for good luck.

“No breakfast?”

Another chuckle from Sanghyuk, he was so irritatingly pleased with himself. Now back in the kitchen, he tossed Jaehwan a bright red apple, underhand. “Eat on your way up.”

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

Jaehwan’s job interview, such as it was, had gone about as well as could have been expected. Taekwoon had made him do several different sketches, as well as copy down words that were dictated seemingly at random to assess his penmanship. Jaehwan wasn’t clear on whether he’d be working as an artist or as an assistant, but whatever the case, he’d passed all of Taekwoon’s tests and was told to report at ten the next morning to start work.

That ordeal over with, and Jaehwan now gainfully employed, Sanghyuk had driven them downtown for a celebratory lunch. Steak and fries. At least the food was still relatively normal. Small mercies.

Sanghyuk had taken him to a strange little shop, where Jaehwan had done some business with a strange little man. He had giant, thick-rimmed glasses, and white hair going every which way, but he was extremely interested in Jaehwan’s futuristic money. The man had bought the entire contents of Jaehwan’s wallet, one hundred and thirty-seven dollars and sixty-three cents, exchanging it for the exact same amount in 1920’s money. The differences in the bills were few, but still distinctly noticeable. On their way out, the man had called that he’d buy any more cash Jaehwan had.

One hundred and thirty-seven dollars and sixty-three cents was a pretty tidy sum, thanks to inflation. He was only going to make fifty bucks a week working for Taekwoon, and it felt like he’d just been given three paychecks in advance.

So, thankful that his friend knew people who collected weird shit like unspendable money, and newly flush with cash, Jaehwan had gone on a shopping spree.

He and Sanghyuk went to The White House, a department store located inside a huge white stone building that took up the entire block. Jaehwan was pretty sure that in 2020 it was home to several different trendy clothing shops, the top two of its four stories relegated to office space, but not now. Now, it was a beautiful French-inspired colossus, swarming with salespeople ready to wait on their every beck and call.

They’d picked out two pairs of shoes, a dozen button-downs, slacks and jackets and vests. Jaehwan indulged, selecting a beautiful long overcoat and a silk dressing gown that was covered in tiny flowers, a silver lighter and matching cigarette case. He’d even chosen a flat brim straw hat with a navy ribbon around it like the one Sanghyuk was wearing.

It was fun. Pure fun, running around the store and trying on the most outlandish things they could find (outlandish by 1920’s standards). Jaehwan found a corset in the _Ladies Department,_ which he insisted be brought to a dressing room and be properly fitted on him, Sanghyuk watching the proceedings in a pair of white elbow gloves and a hat with a real stuffed bird nested on it. It was fun enough that Jaehwan managed to forget for minutes at a time that he didn’t belong.

They left The White House with their arms full of shopping bags (Jaehwan ended up buying the corset, since for some reason, the saleswoman seemed hesitant about putting it back on the rack once he was finished. He’d gotten a stupidly frilly panty set as well, just for the pure joy of seeing how flustered she got), and they headed back to the house so Sanghyuk could nap before work.

While Sanghyuk slept, Jaehwan set up his new bedroom. Hanging up his purchases and straightening his sheets, hiding his overnight bag under the bed. He fought off viscous waves of melancholy as he did so. His old room, the enormous bed and cardboard deer head and action figure collection. All of it pulled at him, the lack of his old well-loved possessions very present in his consciousness. A longing to work on his comic was there too, the story he’d been crafting for more than two years now. Unpublished chapters mapped out on his desktop destined to never be clicked again.

The prospect of leaving his story unfinished made Jaehwan want to weep.

But he didn’t weep. He talked himself down from the brink of hysteria instead, put on his 2020 sweatpants and his 1920 dressing gown, and then artfully draped himself across Sanghyuk’s couch with a paperback book.

Sanghyuk emerged a few hours later, already fully dressed. Plain black vest and matching trousers with a dark wool overcoat on top. It wasn’t cold out yet, but the desert-ish climate meant that even summer nights were chilly. He was _unreasonably_ handsome. It was unfair.

“Good evening, kind sir,” Jaehwan called, affecting a foppish manner and shutting his book with a snap. Sanghyuk graced him with a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Preoccupation clear in the line of his mouth. Jaehwan had been thinking about Sanghyuk as well as everything else, about why Sanghyuk had taken him in and was being so kind. Apart from _being raised right,_ Jaehwan had a sneaking suspicion that Sanghyuk was lonely.

“Good evening, Jaehwan.”

“Are we leaving now?” Jaehwan asked, getting up and trying to straighten his hair. “You’ll need to give me a moment to change clothes.”

“You’re not accompanying me tonight.”

Jaehwan frowned in confusion. “Aren't you working? At- what did Taekwoon call it? Fantasia?”

“No.” The reply was curt and Jaehwan’s frown deepened. He scurried into the kitchen where he found his friend chugging the cold coffee left over from that morning.

“Then, where are you going?”

“Work.”

Flat voice, avoiding eye contact. Jaehwan decided to try a new approach, because his curious mind was waking up.

“Sanghyuk, how old are you?” It seemed ludicrous that he hadn’t asked that yet. Sanghyuk cleared his throat, turning on the faucet to rinse out his mug. “I’m twenty-four, born in 1895. Why do you ask?”

“You’re younger than me,” Jaehwan hummed, feeling around in Sanghyuk’s coat pockets. Just to keep him off balance.

“I’m younger than everyone, and knock that off, would you?”

Jaehwan didn’t knock it off. “Were you in the war? I know there was a World War around now-ish but I can’t remember dates.”

“Of course, I was. 28th Infantry Regiment of the First Division. I don’t see how this pertains to anything.”

“Did you like being a soldier?” Jaehwan asked, watching clear water spill out of the tap. He debated trying to poke in Sanghyuk’s trouser pockets next, but that seemed a bit overly familiar, so he went for the coat’s inside pockets instead.

“I was only nineteen and it was terrifying. Being shipped abroad all by myself to go fight the Germans. So, to answer your question, no, I didn’t like it. But I was very, very good.”

Jaehwan abruptly fumbled to a stop, Sanghyuk catching his wrists and spinning around so Jaehwan’s back was pressed up against the counter.

Blinking hard, Jaehwan tried his best to stay calm. To even out his breathing and stop his heart from racing. He stared at his accidental discovery that was now peeking out from under his friend's coat. Shiny black metal, nestled in a shoulder holster, hanging between his torso and upper arm.

“Is that a gun?!”

Sanghyuk didn’t say anything. He was still holding Jaehwan in place, big hands tight around Jaehwan’s wrists and the top of his thigh sandwiching Jaehwan’s hip against the counters edge. His eyes were flicking around Jaehwan’s face, making several very hasty mental calculations. Jaehwan could literally _see_ him thinking.

“I know that's a gun! Why the fuck do you have a gun?!”

“Because,” Sanghyuk replied, carefully letting Jaehwan go and stepping backwards, “I’m a very good soldier.”

“That’s _not_ an acceptable answer!” Jaehwan nearly shouted. He followed on his friend's heels toward the front door, grabbing Sanghyuk’s sleeve before he could run away. Jaehwan was starting to feel panicky again. Not from sadness this time, but from actual fear.

“Sanghyuk-”

“Leave off, Jaehwan, I’ve got to go.”

“Go where?! And why are you bringing that!?”

Sanghyuk exhaled sharply through his nose, turning to look at Jaehwan over his shoulder. He dislodged Jaehwan’s hands from his sleeves with a gentleness that belied his rough maneuvering of a moment ago. “I’m going to work. Just don’t worry about it, alright? Food is in the ice box if you get hungry. Or, you can go upstairs. Taekwoon has a habit of feeding strays.”

Ignoring Jaehwan's protest that he _wasn’t a stray_ and that Sanghyuk _sit down and explain himself,_ Sanghyuk turned the knob and walked out, shutting the door in Jaehwan’s outraged face.

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

Jaehwan didn’t go upstairs for dinner. He didn’t do anything. So off kilter from his discovery was he that Jaehwan simply sat in the living room and stared at nothing. He couldn’t even bring himself to read.

And when he was dragged out of his well of memory several hours later by the sound of the front door lock turning, Jaehwan realized the room had gone pitch black around him. Just how long had it been?

“Sanghyuk?!”

It was indeed Sanghyuk, visibly drunk, fumbling his keys before dropping them on the floor and kicking the door shut behind him.

“How ya doin’ baby?” Sanghyuk’s words were slurred and he laughed a little, but there was no humor in the sound whatsoever.

Jaehwan forced himself not to flinch at the term of endearment, it wasn’t meant to be one. Automatic. Jaehwan was on his feet before he realized he’d decided to move. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”

“Nothing, just got a little edge on is all.”

The laugh Jaehwan let out was hollow. “I don’t know what the fuck that means, but you’re drunk! _Why_ are you drunk!?”

“You’re right,” Sanghyuk replied obligingly, stumbling toward the kitchen before Jaehwan could reach him. “I’m fried.”

“I hope that means drunk,” Jaehwan grumbled. He snatched a glass bottle away from his friend, unlabeled and full of dark amber liquid, that Sanghyuk had extracted from the back of a high cabinet. “No more!”

_“Yes_ more.”

“No!” Jaehwan snapped, hiding the bottle behind his back in hopes that his friend would lose interest.

He didn’t lose interest. Jaehwan squeaked as Sanghyuk’s arms came around him, pressed much closer than Jaehwan was emotionally and mentally prepared for.

“Don’t be a killjoy,” Sanghyuk whined, making grabby hands for the bottle and half squishing Jaehwan against the fridge.

“I _will_ be a killjoy,” Jaehwan replied sharply, “And you’re going to bed!”

“Where’s my deck?” Sanghyuk mumbled, apparently to himself, looking around and giving Jaehwan an opportunity to hide the bottle behind the coffee maker.

“Your what?”

“My deck. My deck of Luckies.”

_God damn that slang to fucking hell._ Jaehwan barely got the meanings and it made him feel like a boomer trying to communicate with a Martian. “Have you checked your pocket?” Jaehwan asked, forcibly injecting his tone with a note of patience and taking a guess that Sanghyuk was asking for his cigarettes.

Sanghyuk hummed in Jaehwan’s ear like he was thinking, which Jaehwan was absolutely sure he wasn’t.

Jaehwan gave up. He wrapped his arms around his friend’s middle and walked him backwards out of the kitchen, down the hall, and into the master bedroom. “You’re literally a giant baby bear, you know that?”

Giving no indication that he was listening, Sanghyuk flopped boneless onto his bed. Flat on his back and fully clothed. Eyes shut.

“Get up.”

“No.”

“Han Sanghyuk, get up this instant and take your damn coat off!”

Sanghyuk cracked one eye open, grinning at Jaehwan like an idiot. “You’re swell,” he replied, still not getting up.

“Yeah I know, I’m the fucking cats’ pajamas,” Jaehwan muttered sarcastically, fists on hips. “Get up or I'll leave you here by yourself.”

“No!” Sanghyuk exclaimed, sitting up and jumping to his feet with surprising speed. He wrapped Jaehwan in a hug so tight it bordered on strangulation. “You _are_ the cat's pajamas. Ab-so-lutely.”

“Giant baby,” Jaehwan sighed. “Now, coat.”

_Of course,_ he’d ended up with a giant gun-toting overly affectionate drunk for a roommate. Shit was already so goddamn weird, Jaehwan didn’t know why he’d expected anything else.

Sanghyuk obediently shrugged off his coat and let it pool on the floor, fumbling the straps of his holster. Jaehwan took over. He didn’t actually enjoy the thought of touching a gun, but it was better he do it than let Sanghyuk fuck around and most likely shoot himself in the foot. Jaehwan undid the straps as quickly and efficiently as he could, acutely aware of Sanghyuk’s eyes on his face.

“Tell me where you were,” Jaehwan said, gingerly depositing the gun on top of Sanghyuk’s dresser. He returned to where his friend stood, swaying like a willow in a breeze, and began unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“Work.”

“What kind of work?”

“Can't tell, I'm not a rat.”

Well, that was less than reassuring. Jaehwan untucked the shirt and pulled it off, leaving Sanghyuk in his cotton undershirt. More comfortable for sleeping.

“Then can you tell me why you felt the need to drink yourself stupid?” Jaehwan tried, briskly unbuckling Sanghyuk’s belt and dropping it on top of the coat. “And take off your shoes please.”

Sanghyuk toed off his shoes without protest, using Jaehwan’s shoulders to stop himself toppling over. “I don’t enjoy that aspect of work.”

Jaehwan nodded. He didn’t know what else to say, or how else he could ask, but at least his friend was listening. Sanghyuk should be comfortable enough to sleep now. That is, if he didn’t choke on his own vomit in the middle of the night. _Oh, how the tables had turned. Now who was taking care of who?_

“So, can I have my cigs?”

“God! I didn’t hide them from you!” Jaehwan exclaimed, slightly irritated, crouching down to riffle to the pockets of Sanghyuk’s coat. And sure enough, there was the soft pack of Lucky Strikes, now half empty. “These are going to kill you, by the way.”

Not trusting Sanghyuk to handle fire responsibly right then, and not knowing where his lighter was, Jaehwan left the room and returned to the kitchen, lighting up on one of the burners on the gas range. When he turned around to go back, he nearly burned himself. Violently starting in surprise. Sanghyuk had followed him, completely silent, and was standing maybe six inches away.

“Jesus fucking Crist,” Jaehwan said shakily, one hand fluttering up to his throat as his heartbeat slowed. “Go to bed. Now.”

Sanghyuk didn’t go until Jaehwan did, trailing after him like a wobbly shadow. Out of energy now and about ready to pass out himself, Jaehwan crawled onto the bed and sat with his back against the wall. He patted the mattress and Sanghyuk followed, sitting opposite, cross legged, watching Jaehwan inhale.

Another question dawned on the elder of the pair just then. “How did you get here?” he asked, slitting his eyes against the smoke and losing himself to nicotine rush for the second time that day. It wasn’t as disorienting as the first time, but he was still glad to be sitting down.

Sanghyuk took the cigarette, took a drag on it, and passed it back. Like he thought it was a fucking joint. “Drove.”

Without breaking eye contact, Jaehwan transferred the cigarette to his left hand, cleared his throat, and slapped Sanghyuk across the face. Palm to cheek. So hard that his hand began stinging before he even lowered his arm.

“Ouch,” Sanghyuk said, like he was shocked rather than hurt. The bastard was lucky he had alcohol dulling his nerve endings because otherwise that really would have sucked. He slumped over, resting his head in Jaehwan’s lap and closing his eyes.

Jaehwan put the cigarette to his friends’ lips and then took it away again. Like he was bottle-feeding a kitten. “Look at me.”

Sanghyuk looked.

“Don’t _ever_ drive this drunk again. I’d prefer you don’t drink and drive at all, but that seems like an unreasonable request in this fucked up decade. If you wanna get trashed, either take a cab or do it at home.” Jaehwan poked his friend on the forehead to make sure he was listening. “Never do it again, do you understand me?”

“You really are swell,” Sanghyuk replied, wincing as he received a second poke to the face. “But yes, I understand. Never again, I promise.”

He ended up keeping that promise.

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

“You have ink behind your ear.”

Jaehwan shook himself from his daze, snatching a silver spoon from behind the bar counter to check his reflection.

“How uncharacteristically observant of you,” Jaehwan replied, fingering the smudge of black on his skin. High up on the side of his neck and just behind his earlobe. Beside him, Wonshik huffed.

Forty-two days. Jaehwan had been stuck in the year 1920 for forty-two days so far.

A person could accomplish a lot in forty-two days. They could comfortably integrate them self into a new friend group. They could get used to a new way of dressing. They could excel at a job they’d never dreamed of having. And they could spend a few minutes each day sitting on a certain green wooden bench. But forty-two days, it turned out, was not enough time to figure out the particulars of time travel.

After day thirty, Jaehwan had begun to institute new safety protocols, attempting to insulate himself and separate from the pain of his cataclysmic loss. He still went to the bench at the bus stop, but every other day now. Sitting on its hard wooden slats accomplished nothing, all it did was remind him that he wasn’t in his home time.

He forced himself not to touch his overnight bag or his future clothes. His phone and broken watch were hidden away inside it as well, the whole thing stuffed to the very back of his closet.

But the most important precaution Jaehwan took was his mental one. He did not think about his family, his parents or his brothers or his ex-girlfriend. Barred their faces from his mind, shrank away like a turtle retreating into its shell. When asked about his relatives, Jaehwan said he was an orphan. And how much of a lie was it, really, when his mom and dad wouldn’t be born for another forty years?

“Any news on your visa?” Wonshik asked, refilling Jaehwan’s water glass and pouring them each a shot of clear, intensely strong gin. That was Jaehwan’s new drinking routine. There was no real reason behind it, other than Jaehwan needing an almost constant buzz to dull his pain, but not wanting to be shitfaced if another _accident_ occurred.

“No,” Jaehwan replied. The stool behind the bar upon which he was perched couldn’t be called comfortable, but he couldn’t imagine sitting anywhere else. “I have a question for you, though.”

Wonshik hummed his acquiescence and Jaehwan turned to face him. Turned away from where Sanghyuk was currently performing. It was harder than it should have been.

“Where does Hyukkie work when he isn’t here?”

“Don’t know from nothin’,” Wonshik replied, trying to slink away. Jaehwan hadn’t been able to fully integrate the 1920’s slang into his own speech patterns yet, but it had gotten a lot easier to understand. And Wonshik was a shit liar. Jaehwan grabbed his arm.

“You _do_ know from something.” Jaehwan let his voice drop to its most dangerous register. “It’s clearly not on a regular schedule. He only ever tells me on the day-of, and he always takes his gun. And he’s a fucking mess when he gets home. I’m sick of seeing him so upset so if you _do_ know,” Jaehwan tightened his grip, “And I can see that you do, I want you to tell me.”

Wonshik was both larger and stronger than Jaehwan, but he was also much easier to intimidate. He was starting to cave, Jaehwan could tell. “So, what if I do? Even if I did know something, I couldn’t tell you.”

“Come on, Shik. You two are friends. We two are friends. He and I are friends. If he’s doing something bad, how can you keep that a secret?”

“We all do bad,” Wonshik replied, giving the room at large a meaningful look. “You included, just by sittin’ pretty on that stool.”

And, of course, Jaehwan knew that. Fantasia was a speakeasy. Jaehwan had read up on the 18th amendment after Sanghyuk had explained it, so he knew that clubs like this were _very_ illegal. As was the alcohol everyone in the room was knocking back. Hence why the club was underground, situated in the middle of a veritable rabbit warren. Lots of escape routes in case the place ever got raided. But Fantasia wasn’t the problem, Jaehwan knew there was something else going on. And he was going to get to the bottom of it.

“Listen,” Wonshik said imploringly, ducking his head so he could talk in Jaehwan’s ear. “I know you aren't a grifter, so this is on the level.” A pause. “The big boss has Hyuk and I work backup occasionally. Just as muscle boys, you know, because we look scary or something. We never have to do much, a lot of standing around, but I know Hyuk doesn’t have fun. If anyone ever gets out of line, it's him that handles it.”

Jaehwan had gone very still as he listened. “Who’s the big boss?” he whispered back. _Bodyguard_ wasn’t the kind of news he’d been expecting.

Wonshik grimaced. “Who do you think owns this joint?”

Jaehwan shrugged.

“Runs an illegal juice joint, supplies illegal booze, do you think that kinda guy only runs one? You think this is his only outfit? C’mon Jae, use your head.”

It hit Jaehwan all at once. How could he have been so stupid?! Fucking bootleggers ran the whole alcohol smuggling ring, but who ran the bootleggers? Why would Sanghyuk constantly tell Jaehwan not to talk to strangers while they were at the club, and always park him with friends behind the bar? Because he didn’t trust the people here other than Hakyeon and Wonshik. Maybe they even scared him a little. And Jaehwan really couldn’t blame him for that if the _big boss_ was a-

“The Mob?” Jaehwan whisper-shouted, Wonshik waving him quiet before the word was all the way out of his mouth. “Stop asking questions, just leave it be.”

Jaehwan _fully_ intended to ask more questions but now didn’t seem like the moment. And those questions weren’t going to be addressed to Wonshik. He had to figure out how to talk to Sanghyuk about this, a plan of attack. Strategize.

Someone at the end of the bar signaled and Wonshik went over to get their order, leaving Jaehwan alone with his thoughts. It was a big chunk of information to try and process. Jaehwan was so preoccupied that he failed to notice his friend had stopped singing.

Hands on his shoulders made Jaehwan jump about a mile.

“There’s my little live-wire,” Sanghyuk said, clearly amused by Jaehwan’s mini heart attack. “Did you like the new song?”

“Yeah, it was great,” Jaehwan replied, forcing himself to take a deep breath before smiling. It really had been great, Sanghyuk had been practicing the song at home all week and his hard work paid off. Sanghyuk grinned, pleased.

“You want anything?” Wonshik asked, reappearing so suddenly that Jaehwan jumped a second time. Sanghyuk shook his head. “I’ll take one to go though.”

“It’s nice to see you behaving so responsibly,” Jaehwan praised, giving Sanghyuk’s cheek an affectionate pat. His friend’s grin widened. “A promise is a promise.”

Wonshik returned with what was presumably a bottle wrapped in a paper bag. Sanghyuk took it and slipped him some cash. The whole thing never stopped feeling shady to Jaehwan, but that’s just because it _was_ shady. Nothing to be done.

“Let’s blow, I’m beat,” Sanghyuk said, slinging his bottle free arm around Jaehwan’s shoulder. Jaehwan didn’t protest. He was pretty tired himself, Taekwoon had had him pose for concept sketches for the majority of the afternoon, and nothing exhausted Jaehwan more than sitting still.

Jaehwan hadn’t quite figured out his and Sanghyuk’s dynamic yet, even after nearly two months of living together. Sanghyuk liked to tease him, although he liked to tease everyone. And Sanghyuk also touched him a lot. But it was always casual, like now. An arm around his shoulders or a hand on his back. Seldom more than that. Sanghyuk had never made a pass at him either, not even when he’d been drinking. Jaehwan honestly didn’t know if his friend was into guys. All he knew was that Sanghyuk was single and kind and unnecessarily good looking.

“I didn’t see you come in; what time did Taekwoon set you free?” Sanghyuk asked, once they were safely out on the street.

Jaehwan inhaled the cool night air. Hard to believe it was nearly July now. His _accident_ had been all the way back at the end of May. Time sure flies when you’re ignoring all your problems.

“Seven, but I had to change. He kept spraying me with ink. Something to do with aesthetics, don’t ask,” Jaehwan replied. He peered around the moonlit street and pulled his cigarette case from the back pocket of his trousers. It was a comforting weight, now that he no longer carried a phone. “Where’d you park?”

Sanghyuk lit up for him, a silver lighter in his hand before Jaehwan’s cigarette even reached his mouth. It was a cute little _gentleman gesture_ his friend did so automatically it was almost a compulsion. Jaehwan’s cheeks never failed to grow warm when he did it.

“Take a left, one block over.”

Allowing his friend to lead, Jaehwan glanced around. Going to and from the club always set him on edge, like he was going to get nabbed by the authorities waiting just around the corner. Nobody was out tonight though, or- that wasn’t strictly true.

They were just passing an alley; it was extremely dark and Jaehwan had to squint. But there were people in there. Three of them.

Jaehwan stopped walking, Sanghyuk’s arm still snug around him. Three people, two of whom appeared to be men, and a girl. She looked either angry or frightened, Jaehwan couldn’t tell from this distance.

“Are you alright, miss?” Jaehwan called, already pulling away from his friend and stepping into the alley. The girl didn’t answer. One of the guys put a hand on her and she shoved him.

“Hey! Leave her alone!” Jaehwan vaguely heard Sanghyuk say his name, but the strangers were looking at him now. Definitely not up to good stuff if the guy’s identical shit-eating grins had anything to say on the matter.

Jaehwan reached their little huddle in a few long strides. “Are you deaf? I said, leave her alone.”

The taller of the pair, still only Jaehwan’s height, turned away, the blatant dismissal poking Jaehwan’s temper awake. “Get lost,” the shorter one said, copying his buddy's movement.

Jaehwan looked at the girl over their heads. “Are they bothering you?”

She nodded. _Well,_ that was that.

Jaehwan put a hand on the taller one’s shoulder, intending to turn him back around and let loose some choice expletives, when blinding pain exploded at the center of his face. Right across his left cheek and nose.

Had he just gotten punched? Jaehwan’s brain was stunned for a second, he’d stumbled back into something warm and solid. He touched his face. The universal gesture of _wow I really just got fucking punched._

“Mind your business, _gonsil._ Scram.” That was the taller one. There really was nothing else to be done now.

His face hurt like a bitch, but Jaehwan had never been one to keep his mouth shut. _Gonsil,_ if he was remembering correctly, was a basically calling him a bottom but in a rude way. Jaehwan had also never been one to take that kind of insult lying down. Or let innocent people get pushed around right in front of him.

“Do you know how much I paid for this nose?!” he shouted, feeling blood start to trail down over his lip.

“I thought I told you-” The taller guy didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, Jaehwan had already introduced his fist to the fucker’s jaw. And then his knee to his groin.

“And I thought _I_ told _you_ to leave!” Jaehwan kicked him in the shin and stomped on his foot for good measure.

What had happened to his buddy? Jaehwan looked around, satisfied that the tall one was now whimpering on the ground.

Oh. _Sanghyuk_ had happened. He had the shorter one against the alley wall, holding him by the throat and managing to look bored while doing it. Absolutely astonishing.

“Can we give you a ride home or anything?” Jaehwan asked, looking back to the girl and dabbing his bleeding nose on his sleeve.

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

“You’re a fool.”

“Rude,” Jaehwan muttered, wincing as Sanghyuk dabbed at his nose.

They hadn’t gone to a hospital after dropping the girl off at her house. Her name was Katy and she’d given Jaehwan a kiss on his unbruised cheek. It was cute. But they hadn’t gone to a hospital because Jaehwan hadn’t wanted to. Something in him worried that a medical professional would be able to tell he was in the wrong time. Or that something was generally wrong with him and they’d keep him there and he would never get out. It was an irrational fear, maybe, but a strong one. So Sanghyuk was patching him up instead.

“You _are!_ A complete and utter fool!” Sanghyuk hadn’t spoken the entire car ride, not until the door had shut and locked behind them. Jaehwan couldn’t tell if he was worried or angry. Or both. “Why would you pick a fight two against one!?“

“It wasn’t two against one,” Jaehwan grumbled, pouting as Sanghyuk wiped an alcohol-soaked cotton ball around his nose. “It was two on two. You were there.”

Sanghyuk’s big hands were gentle, but Jaehwan felt them tremble. “And if I hadn’t been there?“

“Well I wasn’t just going to let them take advantage of Katy!”

Sanghyuk got up and left. They’d been sitting on the floor of the master bathroom, but he still just left Jaehwan there without another word.

“Hey!”

No answer. Jaehwan heard a door slam somewhere. “Real mature,” he grumbled to himself. At least he’d stopped bleeding, but his shirt was ruined. And he was sore.

Jaehwan picked up the cotton ball his friend had abandoned and began pressing it against his cheek. The stupid fuckers ring and cut him. “Probably gunna have a scar...”

Far away the door opened, two sets of footsteps walking quickly toward the bathroom.

_“Gods.”_ A quiet sigh. Sanghyuk had brought backup.

“Hey, Taeky,” Jaehwan chirped, grinning up at his employer.

Sanghyuk exhaled sharply, once, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “Tell him how stupid he’s being,” he said, voice worryingly low. “Tell him how reckless it was, because he won’t listen to me.”

Taekwoon knelt on the bathroom floor and pulled a jar of some strong-smelling ointment out of the pocket of his dressing gown. Jaehwan had suspicions that his employer was a wannabe witch.

“From what you told me, I think Jaehwanie did the right thing,” Taekwoon replied. He gently massaged the ointment on Jaehwan’s cut and across the bridge of his nose, making the younger wince in pain. But surprisingly, it really did make his injuries start to feel better. The ache was being numbed away, leaving his skin tingly and cool.

“See! Taeky is one of the good ones.” Jaehwan patted his employer's knee, tilting his head back so Taekwoon could begin taping up his nose.

“Do I have to start worrying that you’ll get in fights every time you go out? If I hadn’t been there, the second fella would have shot you in the head! Did you not see the gun he had in his jacket?!”

That gave Jaehwan a moment's pause. He _hadn’t_ actually noticed a gun, too focused on helping the girl. But did that really matter in the grand scheme of things? Jaehwan didn’t think so. “I still would have tried to help,” Jaehwan said, knowing he sounded petulant but not caring overmuch. “Plus, he insulted me, and I don’t stand down to homophobes. And _double_ plus, he hit me first! I wasn’t planning on getting my nose broken!”

“Why don’t we all just relax, take some deep breaths, hm?” Taekwoon hummed, impervious to the angry storm that was Sanghyuk, currently brewing behind him.

“I think we should have a party. A _Jyani got his nose broken_ party,” Jaehwan replied, pleased at the soft laugh he got from Taekwoon in response. “Just a little one. You can come, Taeky, and Shik and Yeon can come too.”

“That sounds like a blast.” Taekwoon gave Jaehwan a patronizing smile and pet his hair. “What do you think, Hyukkie?”

“I think you’re reckless!” Sanghyuk leveled a finger at Jaehwan. “And you’re going to get yourself seriously hurt! I don’t want you getting hurt for no reason! I don’t want you getting hurt at all! Period!”

And with that, Sanghyuk left the bathroom for a second time. It was pretty difficult to have a proper dramatic storm off, considering they were in _his_ bathroom, and Jaehwan and Taekwoon would have to cross the bedroom to leave so he would see them again, but Jaehwan still admired the effort.

“What’s eating him? He didn’t get punched,” Jaehwan grumbled.

Taekwoon sighed, slipping the ointment jar back into his pocket. “Don’t mind Hyukkie, he's just keen on you is all, and he can be protective.”

“Keen on me?!”

“Yeah, you know. Sweet on you. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“Dry up, Taek!” came the shout, emanating from the general vicinity of Sanghyuk’s bedroom.

Taekwoon smiled conspiratorially and continued, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Haven’t you seen the way he looks at you? It’s like you hang the moon.”

Jaehwan _hadn’t_ noticed. He tended to think of himself as an observant person, but maybe that wasn’t the case? Either way, he guessed his employer was just saying it to make him feel better. There wasn’t any truth to it.

“Thanks, Taeky,” Jaehwan said, giving Taekwoon’s hand a little squeeze. “And thanks for fixing me up.”

“No problem. Try and get some rest now, and make sure you sleep on your back.”

They both got to their feet, tossing the cotton balls and used first aid supplies in the trash before making their way out. Sanghyuk was still dressed, lying on his back with his arms folded over his face, only his mouth visible. He was pouting, doing that thing where his lips pushed out in that adorable way. It made him look so much like a duck.

“Good night, Hyukkie,” Jaehwan and Taekwoon chorused, grinning at each other on their way down the hall.

No response.

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

Jaehwan got his party.

Sanghyuk was being a stubborn bitch and ignoring him though, so Taekwoon was hosting. Jaehwan wouldn’t usually care, if it weren't for the _incredibly_ annoying way Sanghyuk ignored people. It wasn’t the full on _‘Oh, is someone talking, no, must have been the wind’_ routine. No pretending Jaehwan didn’t exist. That would have been bearable. No, Sanghyuk would stay in a room if Jaehwan was there, he’d listen when Jaehwan talked, he'd stare at Jaehwan for literal minutes on end, but he wouldn’t speak. He’d refused to say a single word to Jaehwan for the past two days.

This was all extremely unfair in Jaehwan’s opinion, considering he’d done a good thing, but he wasn’t going to let Sanghyuk ruin his broken nose celebration.

“Remind me tomorrow, I have a new project to show you and I’d love to take advantage of your modeling skills,” Taekwoon said, breezing past Jaehwan to the front door.

Well, shit. Jaehwan wasn’t exactly an experienced model. He’d never modeled a day in his life, but fake it ‘til you make it, right? “Sure,” he replied, setting the windup gramophone playing something jazzy. Taekwoon had one of the largest collections of physical music Jaehwan had ever seen, so they wouldn’t run out of new songs before the night was over.

Hakyeon and Wonshik had arrived together, both in _slightly_ casual dinner jackets. Jaehwan had to insist on that point since they both argued and told him that appropriate party attire was a tuxedo. But Jaehwan didn’t actually own a tuxedo, and he thought it would be a bit ridiculous to get that dressed up for what essentially amounted to a four-person kickback. Taekwoon, as expected, had ignored Jaehwan’s request, his shoulder length black hair tied back with a velvet ribbon and wearing a waistcoat that could only be described as _eccentric._

“I brought goodies!” Hakyeon called, holding up a very full bag. Wonshik followed suit, raising a bottle in each hand. “And I brought bootleg.”

Hugs were dispensed and introductions were made (Taekwoon hadn’t met the other two before), Jaehwan breaking through the first-few-minutes-of-a-party awkwardness by popping a bottle of champagne.

Two hours or so later, they were all good and tipsy. Jackets and ties had been heartlessly abandoned, as well as shoes in Hakyeon’s case, and the four men were sitting in a circle on the floor playing a drinking game.

It wasn’t a game Jaehwan had ever played before, they called it Mexicali. It had mainly to do with dice, they each had a cup with two ivory dice inside, and high-roll or non-matching dice meant you had to drink. You could also bluff, since you kept your roll hidden, but Jaehwan wasn’t very good at lying and he still didn’t fully understand the rules, so he just drank when the others told him he’d lost.

He was having fun regardless. The music was loud, and the gin was good, and he felt more content and relaxed than he had in weeks. And his nose didn’t even hurt all that much. The only thing that was missing now was-

A knock on the back door sent Jaehwan’s stomach fluttering up into his throat.

“I’ll get it,” Hakyeon exclaimed, jumping up and nearly toppling right back over in his excitement. Jaehwan giggled, reaching out a hand to steady him as he went past.

“Hyukkie wookie baby waybie!”

That was one Jaehwan would need to file away for later.

Hakyeon dragged Sanghyuk inside, the newcomer looking adorably rumpled. His collar was open, as were the few top buttons of his shirt, black hair all mussed out of its careful styling like he’d been running his hands through it. And he had slippers on instead of shoes. All of that put together gave him strong _‘I just woke up from a nap’_ vibes.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” called Wonshik, tapping the top of his dice cup to the beat of the music like it was a bongo drum.

“Well,” Sanghyuk replied, allowing Hakyeon to pull him over to their circle, “All my friends are here. And the music is so loud that I can’t sleep.”

“Sorry we’re keeping you up.” Jaehwan hated how meek he sounded. Sanghyuk plopped down on the floor beside him and stared for a few seconds, Jaehwan’s face flushing without his permission. But Sanghyuk didn’t reply. The fucking infuriating man. Maybe a drink would coax him into speech.

“Shot?” Jaehwan held up his own full shot glass, doing his brightest and most blinding smile. Sanghyuk didn’t take the bait.

“What are you all doing?” he asked, turning his face away from Jaehwan and glancing around the parlor, “It sounded like I was living underneath a herd of stampeding elephants.”

Jaehwan pouted. If Sanghyuk wasn’t going to talk to him then he should go sit somewhere else. Jaehwan downed his shot even though the game had paused, a gesture of frustration.

“Mexicali. And we were teaching Jaehwan the Charleston earlier. He’s an appalling dancer,” Hakyeon replied, digging a fifth cup and pair of dice out of his party supply bag. “Wanna play?”

Sanghyuk shrugged, which everyone took to mean yes, and the game resumed.

He was a much better player than Jaehwan. And he bluffed so frequently and so believably that he only had to drink twice in the following half hour.

This really wasn’t Jaehwan’s game.

“How about we switch things up?” Jaehwan asked, already running through his mental rolodex for something he could easily explain. The cognitive processing abilities of the entire room had sloped steeply downhill. _Gotta keep it simple._ “I’ll teach you a game from where I’m from.”

Hakyeon _ooh’_ ed at him, forgetting about his dice mid roll. “Go on.”

“It's called never have I ever. We go around in a circle and each say something we’ve never done. If you _have_ done whatever it is, you have to drink.”

“Sounds like a blast! Let’s give it a go.”

And so, they did. Jaehwan started off with an easy one. “Never have I ever eaten a pickle.” All of them had to drink, Sanghyuk included. That was one of the options Jaehwan usually kept on standby for if he was losing really badly. That, used a tampon, or gotten a driver’s license. But Jaehwan wasn’t planning on playing fair tonight. His target was locked.

They cycled through a few rounds, Jaehwan mostly avoiding loss only because the others kept referring to old-timey things, until Sanghyuk finally caught on to what he was doing. In all fairness, Jaehwan was surprised it had taken that long, considering he’d used _‘Never have I ever been a professional singer’, ‘Never have I ever owned a firearm’,_ and _‘Never have I ever been 6-foot 2-inches tall’._

Jaehwan wasn’t the only one to get Sanghyuk, albeit coincidentally. Wonshik got them all with a rather spectacular _‘Never have I ever tried on a dress’,_ and Taekwoon managed a back to back _‘Never have I ever owned an automobile’_ and _‘Never have I ever been a soldier’._ Everyone but Jaehwan lost to those.

“Never have I ever purchased a corset,” Sanghyuk said on his next turn, holding a full shot glass up to Jaehwan before the latter even had time to pour his own.

Jaehwan glared at him, pure venom, but he admitted defeat and raised the glass to his mouth. They weren't doing full shots, the frequency of losses in never-have-I-ever would have made that physically impractical, so they’d settled on sips instead. But when Jaehwan tried to take his sip, Sanghyuk’s index finger tipped the glass back and poured the entire contents down Jaehwan’s throat.

“You piece of shit!” he spluttered, coughing, slapping at his roommate with all the disjointed force he could manage.

Sanghyuk snickered.

That was it. Jaehwan dropped his empty glass on the carpet and tackled Sanghyuk, throwing himself on top of him and sending them both rolling a pace away into the side of the couch. Hakyeon nearly burned the building down, losing his grip on his cigarette when Sanghyuk’s shoulder smacked into his arm, but he snatched it up just in time. Someone said something about puppies wrestling. The others laughed.

Jaehwan sat himself on Sanghyuk’s stomach, catching his wrists and pinning them to the carpet beside his head. “Why did you do that?!” he snapped, ignoring the other three who’d apparently decided to continue the game and leave them to it. Sanghyuk just smirked.

“Grow up and talk to me, you big baby!”

No reply. Just a cocky little chuckle that made Jaehwan want to scream. “What do you want me to say?! That I’m sorry for getting _my_ nose broken?! Or that I got in a fight?! Or that it was reckless or whatever?! I’m sorry, okay?! I won't do it again! Just quit being a brat, it’s pissing me off!”

Sanghyuk tilted his head a little. “Apology accepted.”

“What?!” Jaehwan squawked. “That’s all you wanted?!”

“Yes. I wanted you to acknowledge that it was a reckless snap-decision. Because it _was._ It was stupid and dangerous.”

Jaehwan hissed under his breath. He released Sanghyuk’s hands and flopped halfway over. Snatching the bottle of gin right out of Wonshik’s hand.

“Payback. It’s only fair.” Jaehwan retrieved his glass from where he’d dropped it and filled it to the brim, holding it over Sanghyuk’s mouth. “Open.”

Sanghyuk didn’t protest like Jaehwan was expecting him to. Simply opening his mouth and allowing Jaehwan to pour. He did cough a little though, swallowing while flat on one's back was probably uncomfortable.

Satisfied, Jaehwan gave the bottle back to Wonshik. He was about to make Sanghyuk promise never to ignore him again, when the world flipped upside down.

Much too quickly for Jaehwan to process, Sanghyuk had yanked him down and rolled them over. Jaehwan ended up with his legs spread obscenely, his roommate kneeling between them, and his arms trapped above his head.

“Take this as a piece of friendly advice,” Sanghyuk hummed. One of his hands was cupping the base of Jaehwan’s skull, presumably so Jaehwan wouldn’t bang his head on the floor and injure himself further. It still felt _much_ too intimate. “Think things through. Don’t pick a fight you can't handle.”

“Brat,” was the best retort Jaehwan could come up with. He was suddenly overcome with an incredibly strong desire to close his legs, cross them, and never open them ever again. And he was still blushing.

“Hwannie, you have a corset? Did I hear that right?” Hakyeon asked, only sounding mildly curious. Sanghyuk hadn’t let Jaehwan up yet. He wiggled experimentally to see if he could free himself. Not a fucking chance.

“Yes,” he squeaked. Sanghyuk was looking at Jaehwan like he was going to devour him. It made him feel shaky and hot.

Hakyeon tapped a nonsense rhythm on the carpeted floor. “Go put it on then.”

Jaehwan nearly choked on his spit. “Beg pardon?”

“Go put it on, let's have a look!” Hakyeon repeated, Taekwoon giggling and clapping his agreement.

Very slowly, Sanghyuk moved back and pulled Jaehwan up to a sitting position, nobody else seemed to have noticed that Jaehwan was incinerating from the inside out. But Sanghyuk noticed. Jaehwan could tell.

“Oh-okay,” Jaehwan replied, getting to unsteady feet and tugging lightly on Hakyeon’s hair. “Come with me, I need help.”

They took the back stairs two at a time, Jaehwan’s core temperature returning to normal the closer they got to the safety of the middle unit. It was cooler down there. Quieter too. Jazz music was still audible from upstairs, but it was faint. Like a lullaby.

“It’s in here somewhere,” Jaehwan mumbled, digging through the bottom drawer of his dresser. He hadn’t thought about the stupid thing since the day he’d purchased it.

Hakyeon- the only word for it was _cackled-_ when he saw the corset, pale cream cotton and ivory lace. It was still nestled in the tissue paper that the sales lady had wrapped it in. “What are _these?!”_ Hakyeon had found the panties. They had fucking garters with little pink bows on the sides. Jaehwan hadn’t ever looked closely enough to notice obvious details.

“Strip.”

Jaehwan stripped. He was remarkably unselfconscious, letting Hakyeon play dress-up with him. It even felt a bit freeing, having someone else instruct him on what to do. Hakyeon laced him up with quick, clever fingers and then helped Jaehwan into his dressing gown. The silk felt soft against his bare legs. If it had been Sanghyuk helping him, Jaehwan didn’t think he’d feel nearly this relaxed.

“Let’s go show you off. Wonshik is going to have kittens!”

Nodding happily and tripping over his own feet, Jaehwan led the way back upstairs. There was a burst of raucous laughter from the other side of the glass door. Jaehwan blinked. For a moment, he thought he must have run into the door face first, the emotion hit him so sharply.

He was lonely. Painfully, _catastrophically_ lonely.

“You alright?” Hakyeon asked, patting Jaehwan on the shoulder when he failed to enter. Jaehwan didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t okay, that much was obvious. But this was _his_ party, celebrating _his_ nose, and he didn’t want to ruin it by running back to bed and crying himself to sleep.

The temptation to do just that was overwhelming.

“Hey now,” Hakyeon turned Jaehwan to face him, worried in a way that was half paternal, half goofy. He pet Jaehwan’s hair. “What’s eatin’ you? Wanna go change back?”

Jaehwan swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. He wanted- no, he _needed_ to feel close to someone. Who that someone was didn’t particularly matter. A hug from his mom, a kiss from his ex, even a playful smack from one of his elder brothers. Anything. But he was grasping at empty air, trying to breathe inside a black hole. There was no one.

Desperate, gasping, Jaehwan took a half-step forwards and pressed his lips to Hakyeon’s. It hurt his nose a bit, but it was worth it. Just to feel the warmth of someone else's body. Someone Jaehwan knew cared about him. How strange it was to kiss someone new. Jaehwan hadn’t kissed anyone other than his ex since he was sixteen years old.

Hakyeon was the one to pull away. Not roughly, not like he was angry or insulted, his eyes were full of an understanding that nearly broke Jaehwan’s heart all over again.

“I’m flattered, Hwannie, really. But-” he held up his left hand, the gold engagement ring on his fourth finger elaborated plainly enough without him having to say anything else. “I forgot,” Jaehwan mumbled, averting his eyes. Staring down at his bare feet. “Sorry.”

Giving Jaehwan’s cheek an affectionate pat, Hakyeon shook his head. “Don’t be. Do you want to go in, or do you want me to put you to bed?”

It was barely even ten o’clock. Jaehwan thought that if he left now, he’d just end up feeling worse. So, he took a shaky breath and plastered a smile on his face. Peppy and bright. Sanghyuk didn’t call him a live wire for no reason. “In.”

Hakyeon grinned, twirling Jaehwan around and pulling the glass door open.

Their entrance was met with applause, Hakyeon’s arms circling Jaehwan from behind and undoing the belt of his dressing gown.

As expected, the shy and prudish Wonshik (Hakyeon called him a _bluenose,_ a slang term whose origins were lost on Jaehwan) blushed. His whole face going crimson and trying to look anywhere but at Jaehwan. Taekwoon whistled, and he _was_ looking. But he was looking at Jaehwan the way he looked at his sketches. Appraising and assessing rather than appreciating. Sanghyuk’s eyes were glued to Jaehwan’s face, like he didn’t notice the stupid lingerie at all.

Jaehwan shimmied a little, mostly because Wonshik’s blush was so amusing, and walked purposefully around the circle. Draping himself obnoxiously across Wonshik’s lap. Seriously, flustering the poor man was too easy by half.

Wonshik made a squeaky noise of protest and pushed at Jaehwan, weakly trying to shove Jaehwan off. And Jaehwan went. That little bit of fun was enough to turn his fake smile genuine, and he got lost in a giggle fit.

Gingerly, a pair of strong hands found his waist and pulled Jaehwan backward across the carpet. It was Sanghyuk, his mouth pressed into a squiggly line like he was trying very hard not to laugh. He tucked Jaehwan against his side, wrapped the dressing gown back up so he was decent, and kept an arm around Jaehwan's middle. Snug and secure.

_That_ was exactly what Jaehwan needed. Just that bit physical affection allowed him to breathe freely once again.

“So, are we still playing?” Hakyeon asked, dropping to sit beside Taekwoon. For some reason, he looked extremely pleased with himself.

Jaehwan didn’t know how long the party went on for. It could have been one am or three by the time Hakyeon and Wonshik were deposited into the back of a cab and Taekwoon had bid them goodnight.

He and Sanghyuk had stumbled into their own apartment, stomachs aching from laughter and heads dizzy with liquor. They gulped down huge glasses of water in the kitchen, Sanghyuk making a halfhearted attempt to reheat leftovers for a snack. They ended up eating lukewarm spaghetti on the kitchen floor.

“Was that really the only reason you were ignoring me?” Jaehwan asked abruptly, lifting a limp noodle to his mouth with his fingers.

Sanghyuk blinked at him, confused for a moment before the question fully penetrated. “Yes.”

“Your feelings weren't hurt or anything?”

“No,” Sanghyuk replied, shrugging. “I care about you and I don't want you to be hurt. You’re so attention hungry that I figured ignoring you would be the best way to make you understand that I was upset.”

“I am _not_ attention hungry,” Jaehwan lied, feigning offence. Sanghyuk’s eyes crinkled at the corners, his irises sparkling like moonlight reflected off a swimming pool. _God,_ but he was beautiful.

Jaehwan finished chewing, swallowed, and set his plate down on the floor, crawling over to where Sanghyuk was leaned up against a cabinet. His long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. Sanghyuk watched Jaehwan move through narrowed eyes. Doing those mental calculations again.

Jaehwan didn’t say anything. Sanghyuk didn’t stop him.

Insides squirming and his dressing gown slipping off one shoulder, Jaehwan situated himself on Sanghyuk’s lap. Arms around his neck and legs bracketing his thighs. He was so warm. Firm and hard and, above all else, _real._ And those giant hands were back on Jaehwan’s waist.

Jaehwan could have sat there forever and memorized every little detail of Sanghyuk’s face. The curve of his top lip. The line of his nose. The angle of his sharp jaw. Counted the individual hairs that made up his eyebrows. But Jaehwan’s body disagreed. His body was getting hot, limbs wanting to fidget, skin tingling under the fabric where Sanghyuk’s hands had come to rest.

Sanghyuk made the first move. And it wasn’t a kiss like Jaehwan expected. Or, it _was_ a kiss, but right on the point of his bare shoulder. Goosebumps erupted across Jaehwan’s flesh and he gasped. A shaky inhale that he choked on when it was halfway out.

Slowly laying a trail of closed-mouth kisses up Jaehwan’s shoulder and along his collarbone, Sanghyuk tightened his grip. The fabric of Jaehwan’s dressing gown bunching between his fingers. Jaehwan let his eyes fall shut. Sanghyuk’s mouth had reached the base of his neck, and then up the column of his throat, sweet pinpricks of pleasure bursting everywhere those perfect lips lingered.

Jaehwan’s head lolled to the left, Sanghyuk nosing gently at the underside of his jaw. Then the kisses were on his face. The center of his chin, his unbruised cheek, both of his closed lids. Jaehwan expected to get one on the tip of his nose until he remembered it was broken.

But then Sanghyuk’s mouth was on his, and Jaehwan lost his train of thought.

He accidentally moaned. Quietly, unobtrusively, but the sound wasn’t supposed to have escaped. Jaehwan felt like he should probably be embarrassed, it was just a kiss after all, but unfortunately there was no space in his brain left to process something as complex as embarrassment. And Sanghyuk seemed to like it.

Hands sliding down to rest on Sanghyuk’s chest, Jaehwan rolled his hips. Settling into the rhythm of their kiss. He could feel Sanghyuk’s heart beating under one palm, barely, but it was there. Just a tick too fast.

Sanghyuk nibbled Jaehwan’s bottom lip, tugging on it with his teeth until Jaehwan moaned a second time. Jaehwan knew Sanghyuk was smiling then and Jaehwan kissed him. Kissed him hard on his slightly open mouth. He tasted like pasta sauce and a little bit like gin. A bloody mary maybe? Jaehwan didn't care, he couldn’t think of anything sweeter.

Jaehwan fumbled to push the suspenders off Sanghyuk’s shoulders, longing to feel his skin. His shirt buttons were significantly more difficult. They kept slipping away from Jaehwan’s fingers every time Sanghyuk’s tongue brushed his own.

This was probably something they should talk about in some capacity. At least discuss the basics like _who's going to do what_ and _who's having feelings and who's not._ Jaehwan definitely was. He didn’t know exactly how to verbalize them though, and pausing now to have a conversation when they could be ravishing each other instead was an incomprehensible impossibility.

Sanghyuk’s hands slid around, one on his lower back and the other right over the swell of his ass. Drawing Jaehwan so close that their chests were flush.

“Oh,” Jaehwan sighed, pressing the tips of his fingers against the side of Sanghyuk’s neck. Jaehwan wanted to hear him. He always loved the sound of Sanghyuk’s voice and now was no exception. His nails were blunt and pretty short, but he gave it a try anyway, grazing them lightly down Sanghyuk’s neck to the hollow between his collarbones.

It worked. Sanghyuk groaned into his mouth, a low, slightly rumbly groan, his vocal cords vibrating so Jaehwan could feel the reverb.

Everything sped up after that. The seconds flew by. One moment, Jaehwan’s dressing gown was secured around his waist, and the next, it had been thrown somewhere on the kitchen floor a few feet away. Sanghyuk’s shirt went the same way, Jaehwan trying to tug the undershirt off over Sanghyuk’s head while Sanghyuk loosened the laces of his stupid corset.

It was frantic, primal and urgent, a mutual spark of lust growing steadily between them the longer it went on. Jaehwan didn’t even know what exactly Sanghyuk had done that had gotten him hard. All he knew was that he _was,_ unbearably hard, and thankful that he hadn’t drunk enough to affect his abilities in the sex department.

“Sanghyuk,” Jaehwan breathed, pressing his roommate back against the cabinet. He tried to kiss Sanghyuk harder and accidentally bumped his nose. Flinching at the pain. It took him by surprise.

Sanghyuk pulled away when he flinched, looking Jaehwan over with slightly glazed eyes. His lips were parted, and his cheeks were dusted with rose and Jaehwan forgot all about the ache in his own nose. “You’re so beautiful, Jaehwan murmured. _“So_ beautiful.”

Jaehwan’s skin felt oversensitive. Every spot on him that Sanghyuk touched was like a shock. Like his nerve endings were coming awake after a millennium of numbness. He ground down on Sanghyuk’s lap, lashes fluttering at the very necessary friction.

Corset unhooked and tossed to the side, Sanghyuk bent Jaehwan backward so much he had to drop a hand to the floor so he wouldn’t topple over. Or maybe he didn’t _need_ to. Sanghyuk’s arms around him were strong and supported the majority of Jaehwan’s weight. He burned kisses across Jaehwan’s chest and down to his sternum, then circled Jaehwan’s nipple with his tongue.

Jaehwan nearly melted at that. Biting his lip and scrabbling for Sanghyuk’s hair. The strands were soft between his fingers and he tugged, gasping lightly as Sanghyuk rolled the nub between his teeth.

It was strange to be nearly naked in front of Sanghyuk after all the time they spent together clothed. But Jaehwan quickly got used to it, the way one's body adjusts to bath water that is a few degrees too warm. In fact, he liked it. Liked it a lot. He didn’t feel comfortable in the way been when he changed in front of Hakyeon, like it didn’t matter. No, he was very much aware of every inch of his bare skin and how available it was for Sanghyuk’s perusal. The idea was electrifying.

Jaehwan tried his best to straighten up, laughter catching in his throat. Sanghyuk was laughing too. Breathless, incredulous laughter that flooded Jaehwan’s heart with joy. Sanghyuk kissed both his cheeks, grunting a little when Jaehwan shoved him backward.

Tracing the dips and swells on Sanghyuk's abdomen, Jaehwan lowered his head and sealed his mouth to Sanghyuk’s pulse point. His skin was slightly salty, a barely-there tang of sweat, and Jaehwan luxuriated in the taste. Biting and sucking until he was satisfied that a mark or five would remain.

“Baby,” Sanghyuk murmured, tracing the ridges of Jaehwan’s spine. “Baby, is this alright?”

Jaehwan nodded. He didn’t want to speak. _Speech_ was the lowest thing on his list of priorities. He nibbled at Sanghyuk’s earlobe instead.

“Jae-”

“Hyukkie, _please,”_ Jaehwan whined, bumping his poor nose a second time when he sought his roommate's mouth. Maybe the leftover booze in his system was helping to dull the pain.

Sanghyuk took pity on him and stopped trying to make conversation. He kissed Jaehwan so sweetly that it almost made Jaehwan burst into tears right there.

“You’re so soft baby,” he hummed, carding a hand through Jaehwan’s hair and squeezing his ass with the other. Jaehwan nearly purred at the compliment. Pleased. He _was_ soft, wasn’t he? He had _the kind of ass you wanna take a nap on._

His ex’s voice, their private little joke, seared right through Jaehwan’s easy good mood. Cutting him down to the bone.

Jaehwan tried not to make a sound, not to let on that he was wounded. Sanghyuk didn’t need to know that. He didn’t want to spoil this for Sanghyuk, who was nothing but sweet to him and cared about him and had such pretty eyes. Jaehwan didn’t need to spoil this for himself either.

He pushed himself up on his knees, tilting Sanghyuk’s head back and cupping his jaw. Pressing feather-light kisses first to his top lip, then the bottom. Teasing. Trying to shove the heartbreak away, get it back into the little cage at the back of his mind where he locked it away.

Sanghyuk’s moan was soft enough that Jaehwan almost didn’t hear it. He pulled the thin garter still strapped around Jaehwan’s upper thigh and let it snap back into place. Jaehwan yelped, startled at the unexpected sensation, his body jerking again a second later when Sanghyuk’s hand slipped down the back of his underwear.

“Is that- okay? Or did you want-”

Jaehwan grit his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. He understood the unspoken half of the question, he just hadn’t been expecting it. He hadn’t actually known what to expect.

“Hongbin usually- she- you know what, yes, it’s fine,” Jaehwan replied, his words broken up between kisses. He hadn’t bottomed in a _long_ fucking time but if that’s what Sanghyuk wanted then that’s what they would do. Jaehwan didn’t actually care. He just wanted to stop thinking about Hongbin- thinking about _his ex._

“Who?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

Not wanting to stand up and not having a more elegant idea, Jaehwan broke their kiss, sticking a few fingers in his own mouth. Did they even have lube in 1920? Had it been invented yet? If not, what the hell did people use, butter? Jaehwan didn’t have a clue. Once he was satisfied that they were wet enough, Jaehwan reached back and pressed a single digit past his rim.

The feeling nearly made him cry out. Jaehwan hadn’t been lying when he said he hadn’t done this in a while. Probably not since he was like... twenty. And he must have forgotten just how wrong and uncomfortable it felt in the beginning.

Sanghyuk blinked up at Jaehwan like he was hypnotized. His hands were on Jaehwan’s hips to keep him steady, lips parted, and eyes glued on Jaehwan’s face. _Gorgeous, gorgeous man._

Jaehwan’s prep work was sloppy at best. He was getting impatient, and Jaehwan was not good at waiting once his threshold had been reached. It was intolerable. So Jaehwan played it fast and loose (haha very funny please pardon the pun), stretching himself open with two fingers. Scissoring them mechanically until he didn’t feel so tight inside.

It didn’t feel good yet. It was weird and actually slightly painful. But Sanghyuk’s hands running up and down his sides felt good. So did the series of kisses Sanghyuk was laying on his neck. And it would feel good soon.

“Hyukkie,” Jaehwan murmured, sitting back a little and halting proceedings so he could fumble open the buttons on Sanghyuk’s trousers. For his part, Sanghyuk had pulled open a drawer above his head and was digging around in it blindly. Jaehwan didn’t know what he was looking for and he didn’t actually care overmuch.

Oh, wasn’t _that_ a pleasant surprise. “You have a big cock.”

Stating a fact that was clearly apparent to them both may have been a bit redundant, but the conversational tone made Sanghyuk laugh. A bark of laughter that could have either been embarrassment or surprise. Jaehwan guessed it was both.

“I suppose I should say thank- _fuck...”_

Sanghyuk’s words trailed off with that groaned curse when Jaehwan took his cock in one hand. Stroking him a bit quicker than necessary to make sure he was fully hard. It felt nice, satin-smooth and hot against his palm. Jaehwan smeared the precome around the head of Sanghyuk’s cock with his thumb, listening to him hiss under his breath.

Finally finding what he was looking for, Sanghyuk slapped the drawer above them shut and did something behind Jaehwan’s back. It sounded like he was unscrewing the lid of a jar. Jaehwan was only half paying attention, too busy watching the way his roommate’s jaw clenched every time he flicked his wrist.

“Just making sure-“ a sigh, “-you want this?”

“God damn it, Hyukkie, _yes!_ Just fuck me already!” Jaehwan exclaimed, mentally preparing to put his roommate to sleep and then jerk off twice, minimum, if Sanghyuk didn’t hurry up, but that didn’t turn out to be necessary. Because two of Sanghyuk’s slicked fingers were circling his rim and then pushing inside him.

Jaehwan keened softly, slumping forward against Sanghyuk’s chest. His forehead resting on Sanghyuk’s cheek. That felt _better._ Jaehwan had pretty long fingers but they were slim, and they were his own, he had been in control and so knew what was coming. There hadn’t been any surprise to it. But Sanghyuk’s fingers were longer and slightly thicker. And he was taking his time. Not just trying to pry Jaehwan open but fingering him properly.

“That better?” Sanghyuk asked in a low voice, slipping a third finger in beside the other two. He sounded mildly amused but Jaehwan didn’t mind. Let him be amused if he was so inclined. Jaehwan’s own fingers twitched, gripping onto Sanghyuk’s shoulders so he wouldn’t melt into a puddle.

Jaehwan hummed in agreement and then yelped, toes curling and muscles relaxing when the tips of Sanghyuk’s fingers brushed his prostate. A warm wave of pleasure rolled through Jaehwan’s body. He’d also forgotten just how _good_ this could feel.

“I’m glad.”

They were slowly sliding downwards, Jaehwan’s weight pushing Sanghyuk inexorably down until Sanghyuk’s foot reached the opposite counter. Jaehwan tried to push himself back to a sitting position and failed, his arms were shaking too much.

“Ready?”

Jaehwan nodded vigorously, whimpering a little when Sanghyuk’s fingers left him. Empty and clenching around nothing. Sanghyuk hoisted him up so Jaehwan was basically straddling his hips and then slowly lowered him back down.

Oh, that was a lot. A _whole fucking lot._ Jaehwan hadn’t really taken the time to process how much it would be, and it was _so_ much. _“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,”_ he chanted, trying to force himself to relax again around the sizable intrusion. The stretch was more than overwhelming. It felt like Sanghyuk was going to tear him in half.

“Breathe, baby,” Sanghyuk murmured, holding Jaehwan still with one hand and tilting his face up with the other. Jaehwan tried to breathe slowly and evenly but he just ended up panting, fast and shallow. Sanghyuk placed kiss after kiss all over Jaehwan’s’ face while he gave Jaehwan time to adjust. They stayed like that, overheated bodies tangled together, until Jaehwan started to feel uncomfortable again. He wanted to move.

This was going to require engaging several muscles Jaehwan wasn’t used to using but he did his best. Raising up and sliding back down, hands on Sanghyuk’s chest for balance. After a minute or so, he remembered he should rock his hips, move in a figure 8 pattern, and that was even better.

_“Baby...”_ It left Sanghyuk accompanied by a truly lovely moan and Jaehwan smiled, breathless but pleased.

He wrapped a hand around Sanghyuk’s neck and pushed, just the smallest bit, just enough to hear Sanghyuk’s breath catch. The sex Jaehwan was used to having was generally pretty vanilla, but he was getting brave. Urged on by his own pleasure and the look of heightened longing in Sanghyuk’s dark eyes. Pupils blown wide and irises glassy. Jaehwan wanted to drink him down like nectar.

Jaehwan entirely forgot where they were, forgot the memories that kept trying to break his heart, forgot that he didn’t belong. All that mattered was Sanghyuk. Sanghyuk’s face, Sanghyuk’s body, Sanghyuk’s hands on his hips. Nothing else mattered. Jaehwan rode him hard, the kitchen floor unforgiving on his knees. Groaning and nearly bouncing up and down and half-choking Sanghyuk until he felt his orgasm begin to build.

“Hyukkie,” he panted, yanking on Sanghyuk’s hair none too gently, “Close.”

As though an invisible switch had flipped, just like earlier in the night, the world around Jaehwan turned upside down. His vision swam, head dizzy from a combination of liquor and oxytocin, and something remarkably chilly made contact with his front.

It was the counter. Too fast for Jaehwan’s stupefied brain to process, Sanghyuk had stood them both up, spun Jaehwan around, and bent him over. The cold countertop reacted against his nipples and there was pressure on his previously neglected dick, and Jaehwan sighed shakily when Sanghyuk pushed into him.

“Close, baby?”

“Yeah,” Jaehwan panted, fumbling for something to hold on to and finding nothing.

Sanghyuk’s fingers brushed his cheek from behind. He thrust into Jaehwan like it was his job, harder and faster than the pace Jaehwan had set earlier. Not exactly _brutal_ but not soft either.

“That feel good?”

Jaehwan hiccupped. Speech escaped him.

“Tell me, baby.”

“Good,” Jaehwan whined, letting his head drop so his forehead was resting against the counter, soothing his overheated skin

That didn’t last long. Sanghyuk pulled him up by the hair and wrapped an arm around his chest. The sudden roughness brought an obscene moan from Jaehwan, back arching, palms braced on the edge of the counter. It felt like his stomach had filled with lava. Tantric heat seething inside him.

“Hyukkie- Hyukkie _fuck-“_

Jaehwan came hard, his orgasm ripping through him like a wildfire. Come splattered across his stomach and a few drops strayed up to his chest. Sanghyuk didn’t stop. He fucked Jaehwan through it and then right on past it, so Jaehwan was well into oversensitivity when he came as well. Buried inside Jaehwan to the hilt and groaning into Jaehwan's sweat-damp hair.

“Holy _shit.”_ Jaehwan straightened up a few moments later, fighting vertigo. Sanghyuk didn’t let him go. His strong arms wound around Jaehwan like an affectionate python. Jaehwan sighed. “I should have known you’d be a cuddler,” he mumbled, grinning, leaning into the embrace.

Sanghyuk nuzzled the back of his neck, his breath tickling a bit. “You’re marvelous.”

“I know I am,” Jaehwan replied, expelling a quiet sigh as his breathing began to even out. “But you do realize I'm nearly thirty, don’t you?”

“And?”

Jaehwan wriggled around so he and Sanghyuk were face to face. Warm, slightly sticky wetness began trickling down the inside of his thighs and Jaehwan shivered. _“And,_ so I’m no spring chicken! You can’t start throwing me around like that, I don’t think my back can take it.”

“You aren’t thirty,” Sanghyuk murmured, kissing Jaehwan’s temple. “Taekwoon is thirty. You’re only- what, twenty-eight?”

“Honestly, once you’re over twenty-seven the number doesn’t matter. My body has already begun to decompose.”

Sanghyuk snickered into Jaehwan’s hair. “You’re still young to me,” he replied, hoisting Jaehwan into his arms despite the elders' very vocal protestations.

“Sanghyuk!” Jaehwan exclaimed, lapsing into giggles and kicking his legs around in the air as Sanghyuk carried him down the hall and into the master bathroom. His shower was so much better than Jaehwan’s, not the tub-slash-shower combo unit, a wide solo stall with an opaque glass door.

Jaehwan was lowered back to earth and Sanghyuk turned on the water. As they waited for it to heat up, Sanghyuk helped remove the little splint and bandage taped across Jaehwan’s nose. They’d come to the conclusion that it was only a minor fracture, nothing was crooked or misshapen, so home care was all that was required. Plus, Taekwoon had called his doctor with complaints of a fabricated backache, very speedily procuring a prescription for mild painkillers that Jaehwan took before bed. But it was better that the bandages didn’t get wet.

“God, you really look like shit,” Sanghyuk said, inspecting the dark purple bruises now visible across the center of Jaehwan’s face. Jaehwan smacked at him. “Don’t be rude!”

It didn’t do any good. Sanghyuk turned Jaehwan’s head to one side, then the other. He surprised Jaehwan with a kiss on the lips.

A minute later, steamy water rained down on both their heads. It plastered Sanghyuk’s hair to his forehead and Jaehwan pushed the strands back. He couldn’t stop _touching._ Eyes glued to Sanghyuk’s face and hands roaming freely across his body. “You really are beautiful,” Jaehwan hummed, drawing an invisible heart on Sanghyuk’s pectoral with the tip of his finger.

Sanghyuk lifted Jaehwan up once more and this time Jaehwan didn’t protest. Back pressed to the tiled wall, legs hooked around his roommates’ hips, Jaehwan moaned Sanghyuk’s name. Losing himself to euphoria.

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

The next morning's hangover was truly legendary. It felt like someone had poured a bucket of rusty nails inside Jaehwan’s skull and then tossed him into a blender. So horrible was it that Jaehwan ended up sleeping until noon. Work could wait. His employer probably felt just as shitty as he did.

Jaehwan had fallen asleep in Sanghyuk’s bed (upside down with his feet by the pillows) but Sanghyuk was gone by the time he woke up. Jaehwan hadn’t heard him leave. That was alright though, it gave him time to shower and eat and generally clean himself up before they talked. Talked with a capital T.

So, Jaehwan had washed the residue of sweat and come off his skin, taken a moment to admire the smattering of hickeys across his throat and thighs, and then gotten dressed. He’d waited in the living room, nibbling on dry toast and sipping black coffee with a dash of whiskey in it, for an hour. No Sanghyuk.

They _definitely_ needed to talk, but now it would have to wait until after Jaehwan had earned his share of the rent money.

“Taeky, are you decent?” Jaehwan called, letting himself into the upstairs unit through the back door.

He’d half expected to find Taekwoon laid out on the sofa with one of those funny vintage ice bags on his head. But Taekwoon was up and about, not visibly the worse for wear. He was whirling around the living room, setting up what looked like a photography backdrop.

“Good morning, Hwannie, I assume you slept well.” There was an unmistakable note of amusement in his tone. “I did, thank you,” Jaehwan replied.

Taekwoon smirked at Jaehwan over his shoulder. “You two kept me awake for _hours._ All that moaning and groaning, simply scandalous.”

Jaehwan’s face flushed in embarrassment. God, had they really been _that_ loud? “Sorry about that,” he shrugged his shoulders, “We’ll keep it down.”

“Don’t apologize, it was about time, and the residual effects are going to play perfectly into the task I have in mind for you,” Taekwoon replied, gesturing in the general vicinity of Jaehwan’s crotch.

“Listen, it’s not like I wouldn’t-“

_No good end to that sentence._ Jaehwan swallowed and tried again. “I like you a lot, Taeky, but not in that way. I’m sorry.”

Taekwoon nearly fell over he was laughing so hard. Jaehwan must have missed something.

“No, sweet bunny, that’s not what I meant,” Taekwoon hiccupped. He got to his feet and indicated a large paper box before gliding away to pour them coffee. “The modeling project I mentioned yesterday. Drink?”

_Yes,_ was the only possible answer.

Jaehwan had completely forgotten about the modeling stuff. All thoughts of anything that weren’t Sanghyuk related had been wiped from his mind. “Oh, well what is it exactly that you want me to model?”

A mug was passed to him and Jaehwan took it, nodding at the offered flask. Taekwoon poured a measure of something sweet smelling into Jaehwan’s cup and then into his own. Spiced rum, maybe? It didn’t matter as long as it soothed his continually throbbing head.

Taekwoon nudged him in the direction of the box. “Now, please feel free to decline if you’re uncomfortable, I’ll find someone else to model. But give the proposition a good think before you do. I can explain all the particulars,” he said, watching as Jaehwan set his coffee down on the floor and knelt before the paper box.

Jaehwan nibbled his lip. “Why would I be uncomfortable?”

_Oh. That was why._ Now lacking its lid, Jaehwan could see that the box was full of what looked like fetish gear.

The fact that people were kinky in 1920 came as a surprise, Jaehwan had always considered that kind of sexual freedom more of a modern development. But apparently, he’d been mistaken.

“It’s all inspired by the French, you know, Diana Slip, etcetera.”

Jaehwan lifted a leather corset out of the box. It was real leather, he could tell by the smell, vegan pleather probably hadn’t been invented yet. There were stockings too, with lots of ornate detailing in the thigh area, a few harnesses, high waisted leather underwear. Even a pair of iron handcuffs.

His eyes were drawn to something red at the very bottom of the box, gauzy and nearly iridescent. It was a shirt, or a tunic, with a high ruffle neckline and matching sleeves. The garment would have been considered demure, if not for the fact that it was entirely see-through. It was beautiful.

“That one goes with the collar and cuffs, or the corset if you're so inclined,” Taekwoon explained, coming to kneel at Jaehwan’s side.

“Did you design these?”

“Of course.”

“And you want me to model them for you?”

Taekwoon nodded. “You seemed comfortable enough in that lacy monstrosity last night. And besides, I think the broken nose would lend an air of danger to the whole concept, don’t you?” he asked, tugging at the neck of Jaehwan’s button down. “Those love bites don’t hurt either.”

“And you’re going to-“ Jaehwan paused to take a sip of coffee. _God_ but his mouth was dry. “What? Draw me in them?”

“No, silly darling.” Taekwoon was up and striding across the room in a blink, taking something rectangular off the nearest bookshelf. “Photographs.”

And that was how Lee Jaehwan, twenty-eight-year-old time traveler with a killer hangover and a broken nose, ended up posing for naughty pictures on the floor of his employer's living room.

First, he was instructed to put on a pair of black stockings and a transparent slip. Sitting in a kneeling position with a thin black cane. He held one end of it in each hand, the length of it resting on his shoulders and across the back of his neck. His face wasn’t visible in that one, but Taekwoon seemed pleased regardless.

Next, a pair of absurdly high shoes that reminded Jaehwan of a hybrid between a ballet slipper and a stripper heel. They were so uncomfortable that he could barely walk, crawling into the bedroom and hoisting himself up to lean against whichever wall Taekwoon indicated. They went with a pair of little black satin shorts and one of the leather harnesses, as well as a satin ribbon tied over his eyes like a blindfold. No shirt. Better to show off the red marks trailing down his chest.

They cycled through outfits for over an hour, Taekwoon snapping picture after picture with his ancient (looking to Jaehwan) camera, until they reached the piece de resistance. It was the red shirt, collar and cuffs secured around his neck and wrists by rings of steel.

Fine silver chain connected each bracelet to the one around his neck. The shirt went down to mid-thigh, half corset on top to cinch up his waist, those high-legged leather panty things underneath. Taekwoon even put a bit of red pigment on his lips so they’d appear darker on camera.

Jaehwan got a look at his reflection in that outfit and he nearly asked Taekwoon if he could keep it. He made a pretty -if slightly debauched- picture.

“Perfect, Hwannie, last one. Pretend like you’re crawling towards me, that’s it,” Taekwoon hummed. He was lying on the floor, angling the camera upward for a sort of POV effect.

Jaehwan may not be a real model, but he was certainly enjoying himself. He’d gotten used to pouting his lips and making his eyes look sultry, tilting his head this way and that to best show off his features. The whole experience was incredibly empowering. Maybe he should have gone into modeling after all.

Taekwoon clapped and sat up, scooting over to give Jaehwan a kiss on the forehead. “All done. You were sublime, Hwannie, truly! Take the rest of the afternoon off.”

“Thanks! Glad I could help!” Jaehwan held out his hands, Taekwoon starting to unclasp the cuffs from around his wrists, when they heard someone clear their throat.

Slow, jazzy music had been playing quietly while they worked, and so neither of the men had heard someone come up the back staircase. But now they saw him. Sanghyuk, standing on the small landing right outside the glass door. How long had he been there? How much had he seen? It didn’t really matter, Jaehwan hadn’t done anything wrong, but his heart leapt into his throat all the same.

Sanghyuk’s expression was one of detached disappointment. And he had a bouquet of flowers in one hand. Sterling roses, Jaehwan’s favorite. Without opening the door or saying a word, Sanghyuk turned around and walked away down the stairs.

“Shit,” Jaehwan muttered. He pawed at Taekwoon to get his attention. “Help me take these off, I need to go explain it to him before he gets all pissy again.”

Taekwoon hastily peeled Jaehwan out of the leather and gauze, then ushered him to the bathroom so he could change in private. As he pulled on his trousers and began buttoning his shirt, Jaehwan was keenly aware that the situation was getting worse with every moment that passed. Every moment he didn’t turn up downstairs, Sanghyuk would have more time to think and, more importantly, to jump to conclusions. After what he’d just seen, that was the last thing Jaehwan wanted him to be doing. Especially with the very new change in their relationship dynamic.

“Thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jaehwan called, jogging past Taekwoon and out the back door. He only had one suspender on, the other hung uselessly between his arm and torso, and his shirt was done up all wrong, but it would have to do. Better than a corset and handcuffs, anyway.

“Sanghyuk?” Jaehwan called, flying down the stairs and slowing to a walk as he entered the middle unit. The back door had been left ajar. Jaehwan didn’t know if that was a good sign or not.

The flowers had been tossed carelessly on the kitchen table. That _wasn’t_ a good sign, no extra interpretation needed. “Sanghyuk?” he called again, hurrying down the hallway.

Sanghyuk’s bedroom door was closed, another _very_ not good sign.

Jaehwan pushed it open and then came to a dead stop. The room was empty. No noise from the bathroom. Jaehwan backtracked. Sanghyuk wasn’t in his bedroom either, or his bathroom. Out of places to look.

“Shit _fuck!”_

Without pausing to let himself get annoyed, Jaehwan took off running. Right out the front door, nearly tripping on his way down the steps, and up the street to where he knew Sanghyuk had parked the night before.

Luck, _that fickle bitch,_ seemed to be on Jaehwan’s side at the moment (even though he’d have greatly preferred the luck maybe five minutes ago), because Sanghyuk was still there. He was just in the process of yanking open the driver’s side door.

“Hey! Hold on!” Jaehwan careened into him, the door slamming shut when the combined weight of their bodies bumped into it.

“Watch it, Jae, you almost got my hand caught,” Sanghyuk said, snappish. Like he was chastising a disobedient puppy. He tried to reopen the door but Jaehwan hip-checked it closed. “You aren’t going anywhere until we talk!”

“Talk about what? We don’t have anything to talk about.” Giving up on his car, Sanghyuk turned away and walked back down the hill in the direction of the house. It didn’t look like home was his destination though. Trying to escape on foot.

Well, Jaehwan had perfectly good feet. Two could play at that game. “We have _lots_ to talk about,” he replied, forcing a conversational tone and trying his best to keep pace. His legs may be long but Sanghyuk had legs like skyscrapers and a gate to match. “Like the photoshoot you just saw me doing _for work,_ and the fact that you fucked me senseless last night. Multiple-“

Jaehwan’s words cut off in a gasp. Sanghyuk had grabbed him by the collar and backed him off the sidewalk, shoving him roughly against their home's facade. “Shut up, Jae, just shut up.”

Jaehwan shut up. Behind those adorable glasses, there was a slightly feral gleam in Sanghyuk’s eyes that Jaehwan didn’t like one bit.

“First of all, don’t _ever_ say things like that where people can hear you. And second, what you and Taekwoon do together is none of my business, so don’t make the mistake of thinking I care.” Sanghyuk flicked his hair off his forehead. “I told you, we have nothing to talk about.”

“Can we talk about how you brought me flowers-“

Jaehwan’s breath escaped him in a hiss as Sanghyuk shoved him again. Their poor downstairs neighbor must think someone was trying to knock down the wall. “Did I not speak clearly enough? Do not. Say things. Like that. In public.”

“Hyukkie, you’re overreacting big time, and you’re freaking me out!” Jaehwan replied, trying not to sound as shaken as he felt. “Just come inside. Please.”

Sanghyuk released him and whirled away, jogging up the front steps like he _hadn’t_ just looked ready to break Jaehwan’s nose worse than it already was. His expression had smoothed over completely.

Jaehwan lingered beside the wall a moment longer, trying to puzzle out the basics. Clearly, there was some deeper issue here. Some kind of _something_ around the sex stuff. Could be bad internalized stuff, or maybe Sanghyuk just wasn’t out yet? Although this _was_ 1920\. Taekwoon’s kinky clothing aside, Jaehwan didn’t remember it being a very lgbt friendly decade.

Jaehwan hadn’t thought to grab his keys before running out of the house but it ended up not being a problem. Sanghyuk had left the front door open for him. He found his roommate in the living room, back to Jaehwan, muscles shifting beneath his shirt as he lit a cigarette. Jaehwan was tempted to light one of his own, but he didn’t want to risk setting the carpet on fire if he got pushed again.

“We’re alone now. Can we talk without you throwing me against any walls, please?”

“Go on then,” Sanghyuk snapped, spinning to face him with arms crossed. Posture defiant even if his expression was blank. “You wanna say something, spit it out.”

“I know you moonlight as a bodyguard for a mob boss.” That came out of nowhere. It wasn’t what Jaehwan had planned to say, but he gave his brain a pat on the back for coming up with a helpful diversion on the fly.

Sanghyuk’s face went white. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do, I _know_ you do, so don’t bother lying to me,” Jaehwan replied. He’d wanted to bring that up for days, but Sanghyuk had been ignoring him and he hadn’t gotten a chance yet. But he had a chance now and he was going to take it. So what if Sanghyuk was pissed? Jaehwan could get pissed too.

“You yell at me for being reckless, and then go run around with literal criminals?” he continued, letting his volume rise a touch. “Do you not understand how hypocritical that is?!”

“No. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, I fucking _do_ know what I’m talking about!” Jaehwan was overcome with a strong urge to slap the cigarette out of Sanghyuk’s hand when he raised it to that perfect mouth, but he refrained. “I know what I’m talking about, and I want you to quit.”

“No.”

Jaehwan had expected a fight, a reasonable exchange of arguments. Or even some heated shouting. But he hadn’t geared up for a flat-out dismissal. “Yes! It’s fucking you up and if you keep doing it, you’re going to get yourself killed!”

“It’s not fucking me up, Jae, you’re being hysterical,” Sanghyuk replied, tone as empty as his face. He turned halfway to stare out the window as though he thought the conversation was over. _Far fucking from it._

Jaehwan took a step closer but Sanghyuk didn’t flinch. “You know, I’m the one who tucks you into bed after your secret little shifts. When you’re so shitfaced you can barely make it through the front door. You can lie to yourself about how that aspect of work affects you, but you can’t lie to me. I don’t see the _good soldier_ who follows orders, I see the sad kid who fell in with a bad crowd and doesn’t know how to get out.”

“You’re talking like I have a choice,” Sanghyuk spat, a drop of that cool rage leaking back into his voice. “Just leave it. This is what I do for a living and if you don’t like it, you can just go. I’m sure Taekwoon will let you camp out with him.”

“And that’s another thing!” Jaehwan knew he was getting loud, but he didn’t bother trying to calm down. “If I accept an offer to model Taek’s new collection for a small, _private_ magazine that only circulated in _France,_ what does that have to do with you?! Why are you so pissed?!”

Sanghyuk huffed, taking a slow drag on his cigarette and exhaling a steady stream of grey. “It’s not appropriate. You shouldn’t let just anyone see you like that. It makes intimacy less special.”

What happened to the _‘what you and Taeky do is none of my business’_ attitude from a moment ago? God damn this repressed and prudish decade straight to the lowest circle of hell. “I know this is probably a weird concept for you,” Jaehwan began, trying his utmost to sound reasonable, “But in the future, people don’t tell other people what they can and cannot do with their bodies. Or, the smart and cool people don’t. And besides, I was fully covered! I’ve posted more risqué shit than that on my Instagram!”

“Your what?”

Jaehwan breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. “It doesn’t matter. But do you get what I’m trying to say? That my body is _mine,_ and I can do with it what I like, and dress it in whatever I like, and show it to whoever I like as long as they want to see it?”

“I understand, I just don’t agree.”

“Why not?”

Sanghyuk turned back to face him then, looking much too vulnerable for Jaehwan to deal with at his current pitch of frustration. “Think about how it looks to me. You spend the night with me, and then not even twelve hours later, you’re crawling around my friend’s house and letting him take dirty photographs of you.”

“They weren’t _dirty!_ All of it was very tasteful and for advertising purposes only,” Jaehwan tried to explain. Again. His reasoning didn’t seem to be gaining any traction. “Listen to me. I just posed for some pictures, okay? There was no nudity or dirty stuff. It was just art, and it has no bearing in what we do together. The two things aren’t related.”

“Answer one question, and then I want this conversation over,” Sanghyuk said quietly, bending down to tap ash into the small ashtray resting on the coffee table.

“Okay, go on.”

“Would you still have wanted to spend the night with me if we hadn’t been drinking?”

Sanghyuk wouldn’t look at him but Jaehwan’s heart melted all the same. “Yes,” he replied, moving as close as he dared. “I would have slept with you weeks ago if you’d offered.”

“Is that why you’re so upset? You thought I didn’t actually like you?” Jaehwan continued. Putting a hand on Sanghyuk’s back. “Jesus, Hyukkie, I didn’t even know you liked guys until last night.”

“I don’t like guys.”

Jaehwan paused at that, confused. He didn’t know what the most tactful way would be to remind his roommate that he was, in fact, a cis male.

“Hyukkie... I’m a guy though.”

Wow, that sounded even lamer out loud than it had sounded in his head. But Jaehwan didn’t have any better ideas, and skirting around the truth or talking in hypotheticals didn’t seem like the way to go.

“And?”

_“And-“_ Jaehwan had to stop and take a deep breath. He could feel tension in Sanghyuk’s back, coiled tightly in his muscles. Whatever emotion he was experiencing, it was raw and close to the surface. Jaehwan needed to handle the situation with care. “And you like me, right?”

“I like fucking you, so what?”

“Hyukkie, I need you to not lash out or be rude right now, okay? This is a serious topic and it isn’t productive.”

Sanghyuk gave a noncommittal shrug. He still wouldn’t look up. “I’m not trying to be rude.”

“Okay, well then will you explain why you got so angry when I tried to talk outside?”

Jaehwan rubbed little circles on his back, aiming to soothe as best he could. And Sanghyuk didn’t push him away. Baby steps.

“People _can’t_ find out. You don’t understand how dangerous it would be for me, and for you too. This isn’t New York, we aren’t as open minded as you future people seem to be.” Sanghyuk raised his cigarette to his mouth, one arm wrapped tightly around his own stomach like he was trying to hug himself. “Nobody can know, I don’t want my friends to find out, or my boss, or god forbid, my pastor. It _cannot_ get out.”

Oh. Right. Jaehwan had forgotten about the religion thing. Being an atheist and not caring about the concept of a god whatsoever, he almost always forgot that Sanghyuk went to church every Sunday while he slept in. Jaehwan didn’t know what type of family life Sanghyuk had grown up in. Whether it was the beautiful kind that taught acceptance and love, or the horribly detrimental kind that bread hatred and preached that gay people went to hell. Based on his reaction, Jaehwan was leaning toward the unpleasant option.

“Well, Taeky already knows, but I’m sure if we ask him, he won’t tell anyone,” Jaehwan replied. Bracing for an explosion.

Sanghyuk turned around so fast that he nearly gave Jaehwan a cigarette burn on the cheek. “Did you tell him?! Is that why he thought you were enough of a degenerate to take those photographs?!”

“No, I didn’t. But Hyukkie, look at me,” Jaehwan tilted his head a little so the hickeys decorating his neck were unmissable, and also ignoring the use of the word _degenerate._ “He’s not blind. And apparently the whole block could hear us.”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” Sanghyuk replied vaguely, getting lost in thought mid-sentence. His eyes slid out of focus. “You moan like a chick; nobody could tell just from overhearing.”

He shook his head a bit and began walking away down the hall before Jaehwan even had a chance to get offended.

“Han Sanghyuk!” Jaehwan shouted. He stomped down the hall after his roommate, trying and failing to put the situation into perspective.

Sanghyuk was 124 years old by present standards. He was clearly repressed and had some internalized homophobia to deal with. Logically, he didn’t have any frame of reference to help him understand why Jaehwan was offended. Fuck, the term lgbt wasn’t even invented until the 80’s or something. But Jaehwan _was_ offended and he was going to tell Sanghyuk why. Explain that he didn’t tolerate that kind of bullshit.

Jaehwan found Sanghyuk perched on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the closet door when he walked in. It was a lonely picture somehow. “Sanghyuk, you need to apologize to me.”

“Why? What did I do now?”

“For saying that!”

“Saying what?”

He was shutting off, mentally disengaging from the conversation so he wouldn’t have to process it or deal with it. Jaehwan wasn’t going to let him get away. He’d keep Sanghyuk there and keep him focused, by force if necessary.”

“For saying I sound like a girl! Like that’s some kind of insult?! Also, I _don’t_ actually sound like a girl, I sound like me!”

“I didn’t mean it like that, no insult.” Sanghyuk took one of Jaehwan’s hands and absentmindedly began to play with his fingers. “You sound nice. Pretty. That’s all.”

Jaehwan’s mouth dropped open. He just stared for a few seconds, mind spinning. Sanghyuk sounded so sincere, like he genuinely didn’t know he was saying lots of not-okay things. And he _must_ not know.

As frustrated as he was, Jaehwan could acknowledge that the difference in social norms between 1920 and 2020 were a lot bigger than he first thought. Sanghyuk seemed so normal that Jaehwan almost didn’t notice most of the time. But then, he’d say something, and it would be like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on Jaehwan’s head. The reality that he was in a different time period with different morals and different standards crashing over him like a tidal wave. The way of thinking here was so starkly different that Jaehwan wasn’t confident he could break through it.

“Please don’t be angry with me,” Sanghyuk said quietly, pressing his lips to the tops of Jaehwan’s knuckles.

Jaehwan didn’t want to be angry. He was too overwhelmed with hopeless longing for his own time period. Worried about his roommate's job. Just flat out _scared._ Scared of the criminals that Sanghyuk worked for, scared of Sanghyuk’s attitude toward their amorous activities, and scared that he would be trapped here in this twisted mirror dimension of his own reality for the rest of his life. It zapped the energy from him. All of it. Jaehwan’s internal safety protocols were screaming at him, alarms ringing inside his head, memories flooding back unbidden.

They flashed before his mind's eye like a cheesy movie montage.

_Hongbin crying when she came out to Jaehwan, terrified that he wouldn’t want to be with her anymore because she was trans. Jaehwan hadn’t cared. He loved her heart and soul, the pronouns she chose to use didn’t matter to him. He was just happy that she was happy, living her truth, and he was glad she had trusted him enough to open up about it. That trust had made the twenty-year-old Jaehwan love her all the more deeply._

_Then, the film reel switched, and Jaehwan was showing his parents the very first chapter of his very first web comic. They had been almost painfully supportive about it. Him following his dreams. They fawned over the printed-out pictures like they were new grandchildren._

_Then a flash of him singing karaoke with his friends._

_Watching Hongbin fuck shit up while they played Overwatch._

_Eating cereal in bed at two am and reading spidy-pool fanfic._

Jaehwan sat down on the floor. He didn’t even have the energy required to take two steps and sit on the bed. Just collapsing in a heap right where he was.

He hid his face in his hands, hanging his head and pulling his knees up to his chest. “Jae, baby?” Sanghyuk asked, sliding off the bed to crouch at his side.

Jaehwan shuddered, sobbing quietly until the dark dog of depression released him from its jaws. It didn’t go far, looming over his shoulder, just visible out of the corner of his eye. But it was far enough that Jaehwan could pretend it wasn’t there. Pretend that grief wasn't poisoning everything he did here. Tainting it with a toxic black sheen.

“Tell me what you want,” Jaehwan said after a long stretch of silence. His voice left him in a croak. “Is having me here too hard? I can go somewhere else, find somewhere else to live, never see you again... whatever it is you want, just tell me.”

Sanghyuk’s arms had come around him at some point, the warmth of him banishing some of the darkness that stuck to Jaehwan like tar. Letting Jaehwan breathe.

“I don’t want you to leave, please don’t.” He brushed the hair off Jaehwan’s forehead. “I’m sorry I made you so upset; I didn’t mean too.”

Jaehwan looked up, eyes pleading. “Then what do you want? Not to date me, clearly, which is fine, but just _tell me.”_

“I like you. I like having you around and talking to you and holding you, is that so wrong?”

“No!” Jaehwan had to fight back a fresh round of sobs. “None of this is wrong! That’s why I don’t understand why you got so freaked out! There is _nothing_ wrong!”

The line of Sanghyuk’s mouth tightened. All at once he looked on the verge of tears.

This was all so batshit insane that Jaehwan didn’t know how to handle it. His grip on the situation, his new reality, was slipping.

Jaehwan slumped, the remaining strength in his back evaporating so fast that his spine felt like an over cooked noodle. Why had this happened to him? What had he ever done to deserve this? Had he simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time? A random wormhole opening up right where he happened to be sitting? Or was it some kind of cosmic punishment, the universe torturing him for an unknown sin? Both options were equally depressing.

“Please don’t go,” Sanghyuk murmured, hugging Jaehwan close and resting his chin on the top of Jaehwan’s head. “I’ll watch my words from now on, I promise.”

“It’s not the words that are worrying me! Or- it is, but not entirely! It’s the emotions behind them!” Jaehwan inhaled and then exhaled once. Breathing in the smell of Sanghyuk’s sandalwood and vetiver cologne. And then he pushed himself away. Pushed Sanghyuk away and levered himself up before stumbling from the room.

The joyful and empowered feelings from that morning’s photoshoot had vanished. They’d been utterly sullied. Jaehwan didn’t think he’d ever be happy again.

He didn’t go directly to his bedroom. First, a stop in the kitchen to raid Sanghyuk’s emergency stash of bootleg. Then to the living room, three glass bottles tucked under one arm leaving his other arm free to gather up his sketchpad and pencils. And finally, back down the hallway, catching a tear-blurred glimpse of Sanghyuk still hunched on the floor before he shut himself in his room. Falling, limp and exhausted, on the bed.

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

Jaehwan didn’t come back out for three full days.

He alternated between sleeping and sketching. Drawing aspects of his old life from memory. The view of the wall he saw when he woke up every morning, covered in taped up photos and display shelves full of action figures. His parents' kitchen, a little cartoon version of his mom standing beside the stove. Hongbin in profile.

Jaehwan drew and drew and drew until the bootleg gin did its job and knocked him out again. Then he’d wake up and draw some more. Rinse and repeat.

He hadn’t showered and had barely eaten. That sort of thing seemed so unimportant. Inconsequential. How could he waste the time it would take to stand in a shower when he was thoroughly and completely in mourning? How he looked didn’t matter. Nobody he loved would ever see him again, dirty or clean. It was like he was grieving his own death.

Periodically, when he’d surface from a blackout, Jaehwan would notice small changes to the room. Plates of food left on top of his dresser. Those sterling roses, now in a vase on his bedside table. Little things. Offerings.

Jaehwan hadn’t locked the door (what would have been the point?), and Sanghyuk kept coming in while he was asleep. Like a giant fairy godmother. Probably to make sure that Jaehwan wasn’t dead. There was a vague recollection floating around in Jaehwan’s mind, tear stained and blurry, of warm lips against his forehead. Blankets being tucked up under his chin.

Jaehwan stared at the empty bottle in his hand. The blankets were bunched in a haphazard nest around him and his fingers were stained with charcoal. It was- god he didn’t even know what time it was. But the sun had stopped trying to twine its fingers through the gap in the curtains, so he figured it was nighttime. He needed more liquor and his drawings were done. The ritual was almost complete.

With a low grunt, Jaehwan rolled himself out of bed. His back cracked. Twice. The stains on his hands were only a minor irritation, no need to wash them just yet. But his mouth tasted like something had crawled into it and died. That was higher priority.

After brushing his teeth (studiously avoiding his own reflection in the mirror), Jaehwan gathered up his drawings. All thirty-two. He arranged them in a neat stack and hugged them to his chest. Fresh tears were already building but Jaehwan held them back. He could cry when the little ritual was done.

The undershirt and boxers he was wearing were just as stained as his fingers, but he didn’t change clothes. No point.

Jaehwan opened the door with one hand and trudged down the hall. First, more booze. He was focusing on his objective so hard that he didn’t notice Sanghyuk until he was already in the kitchen.

They stared at each other, Jaehwan standing frozen next to the fridge, Sanghyuk sitting bolt upright on the sofa like a deer in the headlights, for a full count of five. Sanghyuk looked so put together... vest, slacks, perfectly pressed white shirt. It was all so pointless.

Jaehwan shook himself and went back to what he was doing. Booze. _Gotta stay focused on the mission._ There was a brand-new bottle at the back of the highest cabinet. Sanghyuk must have gone out. Good for him. Jaehwan snatched it up and then began digging around the junk drawer.

“You’re awake?”

It was phrased like a question, an inane question that Jaehwan didn’t bother answering. Ah, there were the matches. He clutched the little box in a fist and slunk out of the kitchen. Back door. Gotta get to the back door.

Sanghyuk reached it before Jaehwan did. Blocking his path. The irritating man was built like a brick fucking wall.

“How are you feeling? You haven’t been eating. I didn’t want to disturb you, but you really should eat something.”

Jaehwan stared at his roommate, trying to will him out of the way with mind control.

“Jae-“ a tentative hand extended, “Jaehwan baby, say somethin’, just talk to me, please.”

There would be no speaking yet. Not until he got to the backyard. Sanghyuk tried to hug him and Jaehwan skittered away, staring at the door over his roommates’ shoulder. No touching yet either.

After another solid five seconds of tense silence, Sanghyuk moved away. _Took him long enough._ Jaehwan walked around him, keeping as wide a birth as possible, and pushed open the glass door. The wood of the staircase felt weird against his bare feet and it was strange to breathe fresh air after 72 hours of being inside.

Jaehwan slipped on the last step. His legs still felt wobbly from general disuse and they gave out underneath him with no warning. He skinned his knee on a corner but didn’t feel any pain. He was too numb. The bead of blood now running down his shin seemed appropriate somehow. Like a ritual sacrifice.

He made it to the small stone fire pit otherwise unscathed. Sanghyuk was shadowing him, aura contagiously frenetic. But he didn’t try to touch Jaehwan again and Jaehwan could appreciate that much at least.

Jaehwan’s vision slid out of focus as he tore open the seal on the bottle lid with his teeth. There was a thin coating of leftover ash on the inside of the fire pit, but it would do. Jaehwan knelt and set the matches on the ground, painstakingly building a little star shaped pile of twigs in the center of the small pit.

One by one, Jaehwan placed his drawings on top of the star. He took his time. Giving each picture a final lingering glance, whispering goodbye under his breath. From behind him, Jaehwan half registered the sound of a door opening and Taekwoon calling his name, but he ignored it. This was his moment. His funeral. There would be no interruptions.

Hongbin’s drawing was the last to go. It fluttered a little as Jaehwan set it down, as if it didn’t want to be there. Like it knew what was coming and wanted to float back into his arms. Jaehwan didn’t let it escape. He stared at it, stared at Hongbin, counting down from ten in his head.

Three... two... one...

Jaehwan wrenched his eyes away and unscrewed the bottle cap. He raised it to his mouth, swallowing a generous measure before splashing the clear liquid over his pictures. _Pour one out for the dead._

The liquor burned his throat and Jaehwan found an almost masochistic pleasure in it. If he could burn, then his body was real. Some part of him was still alive.

The matchbox shook in his hands. Jaehwan was trembling so hard that they wouldn’t light. Three of the minuscule sticks snapped in half before Sanghyuk tried to help. Jaehwan pushed him away. This had to be done by himself or it wouldn’t count.

When the fifth match finally ignited, Jaehwan hadn’t been ready for it. The tiny explosion startled him so violently that he nearly dropped it in the grass. With a final whispered _I love you,_ he tossed the match on top of his funeral pyre.

He’d poured out too much gin. The pictures caught fire with a sound like ripping paper. A great rush of heat slapped him across the face, and he yelped in surprise. Sanghyuk had pulled him backward just in time to stop his eyebrows being singed off.

Jaehwan struggled for a beat until Sanghyuk released him and he crawled back to the edge of the pit, peering down at his smoldering artwork. He felt like a moth, instinctively drawn to the light even though its source was lethal.

Jaehwan debated putting himself into the pit as well, there was enough liquor in his system that he was basically a walking fire hazard, but he was too much of a coward to go through with it. So, he just crouched and watched his memories burn. The remnants of his old life going up in smoke.

Once all the drawings had been completely obliterated, reduced to nothing more than ash, Jaehwan let himself cry. Big, heaving sobs that made his whole body shake. It felt good to cry, liberating, like all the agony that had been building up inside him since his accident was finally being released. Jaehwan was properly letting go of his past, of his time, and of his loved ones. They were really truly gone and there was no getting them back. It was about time he accepted it and started to move on.

Jaehwan had to physically ask for comfort now, as his roommate had retreated a safe distance away. Standing shoulder to shoulder with an alarmed looking Taekwoon. Visibly wary.

“Hyukkie,” he called, voicing croaky and raw after days of disuse. He extended a hand, attempting to bridge the ten-foot gap between them.

Sanghyuk descended on him like a winged angel of mercy. Scooping Jaehwan into his arms and pressing kisses to his forehead. Smoothing Jaehwan’s greasy hair off his face. Rocking them slowly.

“Can we go back inside?” Jaehwan asked, his words broken up by hiccups. He cradled the mostly full bottle of gin like it was an anxious child. “I’m cold.”

Sanghyuk clicked his tongue, wiping the tears from Jaehwan’s cheek with his thumb. “Of course, poor little bunny, c’mon. Let’s get you inside and I’ll draw you a nice bath, hm?”

At Jaehwan’s nod, Sanghyuk hoisted him into his arms more securely and carried him bridal style back to the house. Taekwoon watched them go with an expression of pure bafflement on his face.

Several hours later, once Jaehwan’s tears had dried and he’d scrubbed himself clean, he and Sanghyuk were on the couch. Sanghyuk reading aloud with Jaehwan’s head in his lap.

It was relaxing, listening to the sound of Sanghyuk’s voice and losing himself in the story. So relaxing in fact that Jaehwan felt himself start to drift off. Sanghyuk had hidden all the liquor while Jaehwan was in the bath, but Jaehwan didn’t think he needed any just then. The aftermath of his little funeral had wiped him so thoroughly that he was too tired to drink.

“Pardon me for asking...”

Jaehwan slowly opened his eyes. He didn’t remember closing them, had he actually fallen asleep?

“But I’m curious, who was that in the portrait? The last one you burned, the one on top?”

Jaehwan blinked up at Sanghyuk for a few seconds before closing his eyes again. He probably owed some kind of explanation for what had gone on the past few days. Would saying her name out loud give her back the power Jaehwan had tried so hard to banish? Only one way to find out.

“Hongbin. That was Hongbin. My- my person. From before.”

His explanation was met with silence. When Jaehwan looked up, he found that Sanghyuk was frowning prettily, staring off into the middle distance. _So beautiful._ It was a shame Sanghyuk had all that toxic emotional baggage weighing him down. But Jaehwan thought he could eventually be happy here, with Sanghyuk, and if sorting through and clearing out that baggage was what it would take to achieve happiness, then that’s what Jaehwan would do. It wouldn’t all get fixed in a day, obviously, but it was a place to start.

Jaehwan pushed himself up to a sitting position and leaned against the backrest. Sideways with his legs tucked up underneath him and facing Sanghyuk. “So, Hyukkie, tell me about you.”

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

Sanghyuk had grown up in the Bible Belt, a little seed nurtured in the rich soil of the most northern bit of the south. His parents had emigrated there before he was born, and he’d lived there until just after his twelfth birthday.

The soft, non-rhotic speech pattern with its elongated vowels and slow drawl had been set. That was where the cute little twang came from when Sanghyuk said ‘mama’. But when his family (mother, father, one set of grandparents, and elder sister) had pulled up stakes and moved to the rural west coast, his accent had made him stand out. He’d been noticed for it in school. Half his classmates bullied him for being ‘different’, as middle-school-aged sociopaths are known to do, and the other half begged him to talk just so they could _ooh_ and _ahh_ over the novelty of it.

Secretly insecure and sensitive to the opinions of his peers, Sanghyuk had been determined to change how he spoke. He talked less and less, listened more, absorbed the dialect of the natives around him. The twelve-year-old Sanghyuk had practiced alone in his bedroom for months. Turning his ‘caint’ to ‘can’t’, ‘faar’ to ‘fire’, ‘yellah’ into ‘yellow’. Shortening his vowels and hardening his consonants until his accent was almost indistinguishable from that of his neighbors.

His parents hadn’t entirely approved of Sanghyuk’s rapid assimilation to west coast culture, but who were they to judge? It was their fault that their little seedling Sanghyuk had been uprooted and replanted in unfamiliar ground. Sanghyuk had only done what he needed to thrive. And he still attended church and youth bible study and got excellent marks at school. Their complaints were minimal because, after all, Sanghyuk was still a good kid.

By the time he turned sixteen, Sanghyuk had a tight knit group of friends, joined a junior ranger program (that sounded a lot like Boy Scouts to Jaehwan), and was the top student in his class. He even had a sweetheart, a girl that lived a few miles down the road from his parent’s farm.

That was when the catastrophe occurred. The _first_ catastrophe.

It had been an ordinary Thursday afternoon, Sanghyuk remembered the details with crystalline clarity. One of his buddies, a slim, well-built, outgoing specimen that was a year above Sanghyuk, had been hanging out with him after school. Sanghyuk looked up to the boy, almost idolizing him. He was the kind of person that was entirely comfortable in their surroundings. That was a type of confidence that Sanghyuk, being an outsider, envied with his entire being.

He and the boy had been chucking pebbles into the stream that ran behind Sanghyuk’s house and something had _happened._ The sunlight had glittered off his friend's hair in just the right way, illuminated his smile when he looked at Sanghyuk over his shoulder. And time had ground to a halt. Sanghyuk had reached out to touch his friend's arm and just like that, a hormonal flare of adolescent lust had burned through him.

They’d looked at each other for a long time, exchanged a few disjointed sentences that meant nothing to either of them, and then- (a lot of frantic hand waving as Sanghyuk’s words trailed off. Jaehwan got the point.)

Sanghyuk had always had feelings for other boys, fleeting urges to touch and be touched that he’d written off as nothing more than inconsequential and intrusive thoughts. They were like tests. God was testing his faith and Sanghyuk had always passed with flying colors. Right up until that Thursday afternoon.

It felt so right in the moment, pure and perfect and wonderful, like he was breathing fresh air for the first time in his life. But afterward... after his friend had gone home and Sanghyuk had eaten dinner with his family and tucked himself into bed, the truth of it sank in. Sanghyuk had sinned, and he’d sinned grievously. He’d done wrong. He was going to hell.

The enormity of his mistake had sullied any positive feeling left over from the afternoon. Sanghyuk had resolved to fix it. He would cut himself off from his friend, throw himself into bible study and cleanse the sin from his eternal soul. It would never happen again.

But it _had_ happened again. Every six months or so, something inside him would snap and he’d go running back to his friend for a hasty dalliance by the riverbank or behind the school building. After which Sanghyuk would purge and purify himself until the craving hit again. An endless cycle that bred nothing but self-hatred and regret.

His attraction to men had become Sanghyuk’s dirty little secret. He’d continued seeing women and giving the outward appearance of a perfect gentleman, keeping the truth of his sin under lock and key.

When the war had come, Sanghyuk had jumped on the opportunity to join the service. He was defending his country and fighting for his people, being manly and strong. Exactly what a man should do. Privately, Sanghyuk hoped that the rigors of training would knock some sense into him and whip the homosexuality out, but it didn’t. He’d shipped out at age nineteen, a quiet and gangly teenager, and hadn’t returned until the end of 1918, a reserved and responsible twenty-two-year-old adult.

“But, so- how did you go from farm boy-turned-soldier to singing in an underground bar?” Jaehwan asked, speaking for the first time since Sanghyuk began recounting his tale. Sanghyuk had laid down by then, his head in Jaehwan’s lap now, Jaehwan running soothing fingers through his lovely dark hair.

“Well,” Sanghyuk continued, staring at the ceiling.

The span of his life had been put into perspective for him out there on the front. He’d seen friends die, looked enemy soldiers in the eye as he killed them, he’d even been shot twice. Life was short, a delicate little flame that could be snuffed out at any moment. And Sanghyuk didn’t want to spend the rest of his life working on his parent’s farm. His sister wanted to take over after them anyway, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. Sanghyuk had a friend from the service that lived in the city who had told him about a job opening.

That friend turned out to be Wonshik. Wonshik had worked at Fantasia before it went underground. He knew Sanghyuk liked to sing, so when his boss (cough cough) told him there was an open position for a singer, Wonshik had thought of Sanghyuk first.

Sanghyuk had jumped on the chance to escape the rural mundanity of his parents' farm. He’d packed his few possessions, kissed his family goodbye, and hopped on a bus to the big city. His parents weren’t too happy about him leaving, but Sanghyuk was a grown man, he had his own money and could do what he wanted. And he promised to write them weekly as well as come home to visit.

His job at Fantasia was legitimate for about six months before the 18th amendment was ratified. And It paid very well. Sanghyuk only slept on Wonshik's couch for a week before he found an apartment of his own (“This apartment,” Sanghyuk said, waving around a hand to indicate the living room), paying rent with his army salary. But his car, that was the first thing he’d purchased with the money he earned at Fantasia.

Once the federal crackdowns began though, Sanghyuk’s job had taken on an aspect he hadn’t been prepared for.

The money was even better, and Sanghyuk hadn’t thought much of making the switch at first. So, the bar moved underground, so what? It didn’t seem like that big of a deal and everything was normal in the beginning. All he had to do was sing. Just do his regular set every other night.

And then things began to switch. It was so slow that he almost didn’t even notice. Only once at first, a request to fill in for one of the other fellas’ accompanying the boss to a business dinner. He’d worn a nice suit and the gun he’d been given was a bit of a shock, but he’d rolled with the punches as best he could.

The extra jobs began to come more often. The boss could count on him. He told Sanghyuk how reliable he was, how trustworthy. It made Sanghyuk feel good. Like he was special and helpful and, above all else, _needed._ It was nice to be needed.

After a while, the jobs grew more complex. Sanghyuk wasn’t simply accompanying the boss anymore, he had become part of the interaction. He was the intimidation. The big guy who carried the heavy machinery and wasn’t afraid to use it if someone got too brave. That _didn't_ make Sanghyuk feel so good.

He’d been a good soldier on the front, ready to follow orders without question and didn't hesitate to put his life on the line if necessary. But the war was different than this. He’d been fighting for something he believed in, defending his family and his country, but this... he was fighting for the bad guys now. He was using his weapon under orders from a criminal instead of a hardened battle commander. It wasn’t the same thing at all.

No matter how good he was at his job, Sanghyuk didn’t like it. As the frequency of assignments continued to increase, Sanghyuk began to hate himself more. He didn’t like the person he was becoming. It made him sick, so sick that he felt like he had to drink himself to blackout after every job just to try and dull the memories of what he had done. 

And that was when Jaehwan had shown up. Like an angel who fell from the sky, tumbling into Sanghyuk’s life like a comet. Bringing Sanghyuk out of his mundane misery and bathing him in light. Sanghyuk didn’t know if he truly believed the whole time travel thing. He’d read HG Wells, but that novel wasn’t exactly convincing evidence, and Jaehwan hadn’t been sitting inside a huge metal contraption when he’d arrived. He’d just been sitting on a bench in a weird outfit, looking for all the world like a lost little puppy. Sanghyuk hadn’t interrogated him about it. Jaehwan believed the story with his whole heart and it was simpler for Sanghyuk to just accept the narrative. 

However he’d gotten there, Sanghyuk was grateful. He needed the companionship, needed someone in his life that had a fresh perspective. Someone who could look at him and his choices through unbiased eyes and call him to order. And Jaehwan was a swell fella, he really was. He was a nice person to come home to. He made Sanghyuk feel like he mattered. (Sanghyuk had looked up at that, peering at Jaehwan through a haze of tears that would never fall.)

He’d been so worried when Jaehwan had locked himself away after their fight (which again, he was so sorry for hurting Jaehwan's feelings and making him so upset). Sanghyuk had been beside himself, sick with guilt for his thoughtless actions. He’d been trying to figure out how to explain himself while Jaehwan was hiding. To choose the best way to tell Jaehwan why he’d done what he’d done. Not to justify his actions, they were unjustifiable, but to try and convey the _why_ of it.

“Did you come up with anything, or was this it?” Jaehwan asked, fingertips drifting across Sanghyuk’s temple. There was no malice in the question, Sanghyuk’s story had certainly been explanation enough, but if Sanghyuk needed to keep talking then Jaehwan would listen.

Sanghyuk shifted a little, uncrossing and then recrossing his legs where they were propped up on the armrest. “Every time that I look at you, every time I feel my heart pound and my insides twist, there’s a voice in my head. It shouts at me in the tone of my old pastor, the one from where I grew up, railing against sodomites, telling me that sodomy is the _worst_ kind of sin. That the feelings I have for you are damning me to the deepest part of hell. They my eternal soul is tarnished and dirty because of it.”

A sharp intake of breath.

“That’s why I’m so sensitive to talking about what we did in public. The thought of other people knowing my sin is _mortifying_. And that embarrassment makes me lash out. I know saying sorry isn’t nearly sufficient for putting hands on you, and I won’t stop you if you want to go away, but I just-“

Another ragged inhale.

“I’m so sorry.”

Jaehwan clicked his tongue. He juttered his knee a bit to get Sanghyuk to sit up. Kneeling so they were face to face and taking both his large, strong hands. “I don’t want to leave, Hyukkie, I’d like to stay here with you, but I want to tell you something.”

Eyes glassy but alert, Sanghyuk nodded. “Hyukkie listen to me now. I’m not trying to malign your faith or contradict your pastor, there’s no accusation in what I’m about to say.”

Sanghyuk nodded earnestly once more. With another deep breath and a moment to collect his thoughts, Jaehwan soldiered on. “What you feel for me is positive, right? It comes from your heart?”

“Yes.” Sanghyuk swallowed hard. “It’s like love.”

Jaehwan pressed his lips together, trying not to smile at the softness in Sanghyuk’s voice when his mouth formed the word _love._ “Then how can that be a sin? Your god teaches you the strength in loving others as you love yourself, right? So how could expressing those kinds of feelings be a sin? Your heart is good and pure and those emotions aren’t coming from a malicious place. Do you _really_ believe that god cares whether you love a man or a woman? Wouldn’t the fact that you’ve opened your heart to another person, and so graced this world with a little more love, be more important?”

Jaehwan watched as Sanghyuk’s mouth began to tremble. “Don’t answer now, it’s just food for thought,” he added. Jaehwan drew Sanghyuk to him, Sanghyuk’s arms coming around him in a gentle embrace. Sanghyuk’s head in the crook of his neck.

They’d both taken steps to move on from their pasts that day. Jaehwan didn’t underestimate the importance of Sanghyuk opening up the way he’d just done. _Baby steps._

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

“Let’s walk home, the night is too beautiful to waste,” Sanghyuk said, steering Jaehwan in the opposite direction of where the car was parked.

The month that had passed since Jaehwan’s little funeral pyre and their talk about Sanghyuk’s origins had been nothing but good. With each day, Sanghyuk grew sweeter. He was still very sensitive when it came to public affection, but Jaehwan didn’t try to push him in that regard. It would come with time.

Their private life was another matter entirely. When the two were snug in their middle unit or in Taekwoon’s company, Sanghyuk was free with his touch, both receptive and expressive. He'd give Jaehwan a kiss the instant he walked through the door, bring Jaehwan little gifts or cook meals without being asked. Jaehwan appreciated each gesture, showering his roommate with praise at every available opportunity.

Their budding romance was as good for Jaehwan as it was for Sanghyuk. Unlike the long-distance mess he’d been trying to cope with before, Sanghyuk was a constant and reliable presence in Jaehwan’s life. Jaehwan needed attention, he knew that he was the kind of person that gained energy and strength from other humans around him. And so, he valued having Sanghyuk at his side more than Sanghyuk understood.

They danced and partied and basked in the warmth of each other's affection and Jaehwan didn’t think he’d felt happier in years. He knew he was drinking too much, but it was the roaring fucking twenties! This was _the decade_ for drinking too much! And nobody around Jaehwan seemed to see a problem with his behavior. Everything was copacetic.

Sanghyuk pulled out his lighter and lit up for both Jaehwan and himself. Puffs of bluish grey smoke mingling with the cool night air. “What are you going to do about your car then?” Jaehwan asked, looping his arm through Sanghyuk’s as they walked.

“Wonshik can give me a ride tomorrow and I’ll pick it up. Nothing will happen to it spending one night alone.”

Jaehwan hummed his ascent. He didn’t mind walking anyway, the air was refreshing after the slightly stifling warmth in the club.

They moved along the silent streets like ghosts. Jaehwan kept sneaking glances up at his roommate, mesmerized by the way his dark eyes glowed softly in the moonlight. He was so lovely, Jaehwan could watch him for days on end and never get bored.

“You’re staring.”

“So?”

Sanghyuk grinned and bumped Jaehwan with his hip.

“Is it such a crime? If you don’t want me to stare then stop being so handsome,” Jaehwan continued, squeezing Sanghyuk’s arm with his own. _There it was._ A light flush heating the apples of Sanghyuk’s cheeks. Few things brought Jaehwan more enjoyment than making Sanghyuk blush.

They’d made it maybe three quarters of the way home when the sound of soft whining drew Jaehwan’s attention.

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

Jaehwan released Sanghyuk’s arm and peered around, then crouched beside the row of bushes lining the sidewalk.

“Be careful.” Sanghyuk’s fingers brushed the nape of Jaehwan’s neck.

Jaehwan frowned at the bushes, squinting to try and see better in the dim light. “There’s something in there,” he muttered. Jaehwan got on all fours so he could reach inside the shrubs.

Sure enough, Jaehwan’s grasping hand was met by something soft and fuzzy. With tentative gentleness, Jaehwan extricated the thing from its hiding spot.

“No. I already know what you’re going to say, and the answer is a _firm_ no,” Sanghyuk said, crossing his arms as Jaehwan beamed up at him.

“But we _have_ too!”

“No way, Jae, not a chance!”

Jaehwan stuck out his bottom lip and widened his eyes, employing his poutiest voice as he replied, “Look at it! We _can’t_ leave it out here all alone!”

“Baby, I’m not running a halfway house for lost strays. One of you is enough.”

Jaehwan smacked his roommate’s shin and then turned back to his discovery. It was a dog. Some kind of terrier, leaves and twigs stuck in its fur and paws covered with dirt. The dogs round dark eyes looked up at Jaehwan, shining and wide, those quiet whiny noises emanating from it as it lightly pressed a paw to the back of Jaehwan’s hand.

“It needs our help! Look! It’s holding my hand!” Jaehwan exclaimed, scooping the disheveled little dog into his arms and getting to his feet. One of Sanghyuk’s hands steadied him, but despite that show of care, the younger man didn’t appear to be the least bit convinced.

Stroking the dog’s fuzzy head, Jaehwan increased the strength of his pout. Aiming his best puppy eyes at Sanghyuk. “We can just give him a bath and something to eat? Just let him sleep inside for the night so he doesn’t get cold, Hyukkie, please?”

“Baby-”

_“Please?”_ Jaehwan batted his eyelashes, bumping his healed nose lightly against the underside of his roommate's jaw. The dog gave a very well-timed yip. Sanghyuk gave a sigh of defeat.

Jaehwan _beamed._

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

The wooden slats of the staircase creaked beneath Taekwoon’s feet as he glided down to the backyard from the top unit.

Jaehwan glanced around at the sound of his employer's approach. He was sitting cross legged in the grass, tossing a ball and then tossing it again once Muffin (they kept the dog, Jaehwan had woken up the morning after bringing him home to find Sanghyuk feeding him fresh sausages, and that was that) retrieved it. Muffin’s stores of energy could outlast even Jaehwan’s on occasion. He was a sweet puppy, swift and smart, and Jaehwan adored him.

“It has _arrived!”_ Taekwoon trilled, waving a pamphlet above his head in triumph.

“What has arrived exactly?”

Sanghyuk appeared from behind his newspaper, early afternoon sunlight glinting off the lenses of his glasses like a dramatic villain in an anime. He spoke around the cigarette between his lips. Collared shirt unbuttoned at the neck. Dress shoes unreasonably shiny. _Beautiful,_ Jaehwan thought, scooping Muffin into his arms and traipsing over to his roommate. Plopping unceremoniously onto Sanghyuk’s lap.

“My advertisement! The entire collection is already sold out, but it takes a while for correspondence to cross the pond, I just found out now! My dealer in Paris was kind enough to forward me a few of the brochures. Have a look.”

Muffin wiggled and Jaehwan released him, the puppy leaping around Taekwoon’s feet as Sanghyuk took the proffered pamphlet. An arm coming around Jaehwan. A hand on his hip. “These are those- those photographs you took of Jaehwan?”

Jaehwan and Taekwoon exchanged the briefest of glances. “Just so.”

Jaehwan hesitantly looked at the pictures as his roommate turned the pages. They were all there. The one with the blindfold and murder shoes, the one with the cane, even the one with the red shirt. Jaehwan couldn’t tell the shirt's color since the photo was black and white, but he remembered that look extremely clearly. Remembered the confidence it gave him.

They’d done something to the photos, whoever it was that had printed them out. Like a 1920’s version of a filter. The backgrounds were all dark and blurry, contrast kicked up in the foreground, so all the lines of his body and the garments were clear. It was a cool effect.

“Well,” Sanghyuk frowned, the arm around Jaehwan’s middle tightening slightly as he thumbed through the pamphlet a second time. “I can see why you sold out so quickly. If people think that this is what they’re buying, then I’m surprised you didn’t sell out faster.”

“Rephrase,” Jaehwan replied. It was a new code they’d begun using after _the big talk._ When one couldn’t gage the other's emotion from the given response. Communication is key.

Sanghyuk stopped on the photo of the red shirt, staring at it, unblinking. “I meant, if Taekwoon’s customers think his clothes are going to make them look this good-“ he tapped the page with one short nail “-I’m surprised he didn’t sell out quicker.”

“You think I look good?” A slow smile started to spread across Jaehwan’s face.

“Sure, you do, baby, you look divine. Even with the nose thing goin on.”

Jaehwan stretched his hands over his head in triumph, flopping sideways over the chairs armrest so muffin could give him victory kisses. The little dog yipped and jumped on him, standing on two legs the way he always did when he was excited.

“Say, Taek, can I keep this?” Sanghyuk asked, hoisting Jaehwan upright. That gave Jaehwan a moment's pause. He and Taekwoon exchanged another look.

“Why?”

“No reason.”

Jaehwan bit his lip, trying his hardest not to laugh. “What are you going to use it for?”

“Nothing,” Sanghyuk snapped holding the pamphlet out in Taekwoon’s direction and glancing the other way. That faint pastel flush creeping across his high cheeks.

Taekwoon demurred, stepping back with an elegant swish of dressing gown. “You hold on to that one. Hwannie, I’d offer you one as well, but I'm not sure if your ego is inflated enough to get off to your own photographs.”

“You bitch,” Jaehwan exclaimed, slapping playfully at his employer’s midriff.

Abruptly, Jaehwan was hoisted up in the air and ended up slung over Sanghyuk’s shoulder, Muffin leaping about and biting at Sanghyuk’s ankles. “Be a doll and keep an eye on Muffin for us, Taek?” Sanghyuk asked, already striding across the patio to the staircase, “Jae and I have some chores to do.”

“Come here, gorgeous.” Sanghyuk set Jaehwan on his feet and dragged him into the master bedroom by his suspenders, flopping onto his back and pulling Jaehwan down with him.

Jaehwan squeaked. His limbs went every which way, not getting even a single moment to compose himself. Sanghyuk was already rolling them over and nudging Jaehwan’s legs apart. Slotting a thigh between them and putting pressure on Jaehwan’s crotch.

“Your youthful vigor will be the death of me,” Jaehwan mumbled as his eyes fell shut. Sanghyuk was kissing his jaw and then sucking at the tender skin of his neck, and Jaehwan never wanted him to stop. It felt like heaven. “Did you like the pictures _that_ much?”

“Absolutely I did. Are you still loose from this morning?”

“Yes, Hyukkie, it’s only just past lunch time- _eek!”_ Jaehwan squeaked. The buttons holding his trousers closed were being opened, his shirt was being untucked. Sanghyuk didn’t even bother taking it off, simply unsnapping the front suspender closures and pushing the shirt up under Jaehwan’s arms.

He kissed down Jaehwan’s chest and down lower over his stomach, pulling Jaehwan’s pants down as he went. “Sanghyuk-“ Jaehwan grabbed at the younger man’s hair, head falling back as Sanghyuk took his length in his mouth. Pressing Jaehwan’s hips to the mattress to stop him squirming.

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

“This is certainly a fancy party. Fancier than I was expecting.”

“You’re wearing a tuxedo; how did you _not_ realize we were going somewhere fancy?”

“All of you wear tux’s to fucking dinner! How was I supposed to know?”

Sanghyuk dropped a comforting hand on Jaehwan’s shoulder, the most intimate gesture he displayed in public places. Even after three months together. _Semi-officially_ together, that is. It was September now, Sanghyuk had turned twenty-five with very little fanfare per his request, they had a dog. Jaehwan stopped sleeping in the guest room. But that was at home. Now, they were at a house party in the heights. So there would be no stolen kisses or soft caresses passed between them this evening.

“Do you want to go home?”

“No,” Jaehwan harrumphed, taking a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter, “I just wish you had told me so I could have gotten into _party_ headspace.”

He glanced around the lavish ballroom, eyes scanning the strangers littering the dance floor. “Although, maybe it’s better you didn’t tell me. This place seems pretty dull, fancy clothes aside.”

“Give it a few,” Sanghyuk replied, nodding and raising a hand in greeting at a couple walking past them. The couple waved back. “Just wait till the booze kicks in. I promise it’s going to be fun.”

Sanghyuk wasn't wrong. Not even an hour later, the liquor was flowing freely, and the party was in full swing. Chatter and laughter and fast-tempo jazz drowning the guests in a frivolous frenzy.

It was fun, and no mistake. There were real, bonafide flappers in attendance, fluttering around the large room like a flock of glittering birds. A sight Jaehwan never thought he’d see in his wildest dreams. The younger men were playing bridge at a smattering of card tables, smoking cigars, and Sanghyuk was apparently in his element. He was very good, Jaehwan thought, sipping a cocktail and watching over Sanghyuk’s shoulder. Doing everything possible not to run his fingers through Sanghyuk’s silky dark hair.

“Do you dance?”

Jaehwan blinked and looked around. A tiny slip of a woman was giving him a smoky smile, straight platinum hair barely reaching her jaw, the hem of her dress cut equally short.

“I’m sorry?”

“I asked if you dance.”

Looking from the woman to the top of Sanghyuk’s head and back again, Jaehwan shrugged. Hakyeon had taught him that Charleston dance, and he wasn’t _completely_ uncoordinated. But the thought of leaving Sanghyuk now, when his roommates' aura of easy confidence at the card table was so dazzling to watch, made Jaehwan hesitate.

“Come on, I won’t bite,“ the woman urged, holding out a hand.

Sanghyuk reached back without looking and patted the side of Jaehwan’s leg. “I won’t go anywhere, give dancing a try.”

“Alright.” Jaehwan downed the remainder of his cocktail, leaving his empty glass on the table by Sanghyuk’s elbow and taking the woman’s hand. It wouldn’t hurt to let his hair down a little.

Jaehwan danced for what felt like years. The first woman, who turned out to be named Rachel, put him through his paces for only three songs until he was passed along to a very lively brunette. Jaehwan didn’t catch her name. He didn’t catch the name of the next two either.

He danced and danced until he finally ended up in the arms of a tall, willowy redhead named Angela. The flock seemed to have taken him for a test drive one by one, all passing him over until this one decided to sign his proverbial lease. Jaehwan didn’t mind all that much, he was fuzzy and happy and slightly sweaty, but it was a good time.

“My feet are positively _screaming,_ fly-boy. Let’s go have a ciggy,” Angela hummed, settling a hand in the crook of Jaehwan’s elbow and steering him out to the balcony. They all kept calling him that, _fly-boy,_ even though Jaehwan insisted that he wasn’t, in fact, a fighter pilot. The girls would have none of it. He looked like one, and so that’s what he would be called.

It took a moment, leaning up against the balcony railing, for Jaehwan to realize why he was being stared at by his companion. “Oh, here,” he said, feeling around his pockets for his lighter and cigarette case. He lit hers first (so accustomed to Sanghyuk doing it for him that it took a few tries to get the damn thing to work), and then lit one for himself.

Angela smiled around her cigarette, resting her palm on Jaehwan’s chest.

Jaehwan blinked.

It was quieter out here, chillier too, and he was just about to offer her his jacket when she hummed, “Cash or check?”

Jaehwan blinked again, trying to riddle out his companions' meaning. “I’m sorry?”

“Cash,” she repeated, fingers wandering under the lapel of his jacket, “Or check?”

“Sorry, doll, banks closed,” a new and altogether deeper voice replied, Sanghyuk materializing as if from thin air. His hand clamping around Jaehwan’s upper arm and hauling him away.

“Sorry!” Jaehwan called to her over his shoulder, still confused as he caught a last glimpse of Angela’s baffled expression.

The elder let himself be towed from the balcony and through the ballroom, giving the flock of flappers a goodbye salute on their way toward the front door.

“What was that about? And did you win your game?” Jaehwan asked, once he and Sanghyuk were snug in the back of a cab. If the driver found the sight of two slightly disheveled young men with their arms around each other at all surprising, he didn’t remark upon it.

“She wanted to cuddle; I took a bet that the feeling wasn’t mutual. _Cash or check_ means if you want to cuddle now or later. ”

“Cuddle? Like hook up?”

Sanghyuk nodded sagely, brushing down the back of Jaehwan’s hair and staring out the window. “Gotta watch out for vamps like that. Once they get their claws in you it’s a trick to get them out.”

“Hm,” Jaehwan hummed, settling himself more comfortably against his roommate. “Well your assumption was correct; I don’t exactly consider myself on the market for random cuddling. But I _was_ enjoying playing the gentlemen! I even lit her cig and everything!”

“Proud of you.” A little smile quirked up the corner of Sanghyuk’s mouth, the hand not in Jaehwan’s hair resting tentatively on Jaehwan’s thigh. “We should let Taeky keep the puppy for a few more hours. I don’t think he’d mind. You know he’s about two seconds from adopting him right out from under us.”

Jaehwan smacked him in the chest, earning a slight wince. “That’s _our_ fucking dog, he only gets to babysit once in a while. Not for keeps.” After a moment's pause, distracted by the feeling of Sanghyuk’s hand inching further up his leg, “But maybe a _few_ more hours wouldn’t hurt.”

Sanghyuk yanked Jaehwan’s head up by the hair. His long fingers knotting the strands in a fist.

Fancy clothes abandoned in the living room, shoes kicked off at the doorway, they’d fallen on each other with reckless ferocity.

“Faster, Hyukkie, please _faster...”_

Jaehwan bit hard on his lower lip, worrying it between his teeth. His knees had begun to ache, the wooden floor in the hallway was unforgiving. Even his wrists were growing sore. He was on all fours and Sanghyuk was fucking into him, pulling Jaehwan’s hips back to meet his thrusts.

The hand in Jaehwan’s hair tugged again. “You want it faster baby, hm?” came the cocky reply, in that low, bedroom voice that could get Jaehwan hard all on its own. Jaehwan didn’t care if he had to beg. It was worth the mild degradation, having Sanghyuk fuck him so hard he saw stars. “Yes, fast please Hyukkie, _god-_ fuck just-“ a gulp, “-faster please please _please!”_

Two of Sanghyuk’s fingers slipped past his parted lips, no longer pulling his hair and holding his mouth open instead. But Sanghyuk did what Jaehwan asked. He picked up his pace a touch, pressing down on Jaehwan’s tongue so hard that Jaehwan gurgled.

Abruptly, Jaehwan was empty. Everything pulled away from him as he was flipped unceremoniously onto his back. He flailed a little, trying to regain his baring but Sanghyuk was already on him, in him, thrusting into him slower and beginning to fuck Jaehwan’s throat with his fingers.

Jaehwan’s spine arched of its own accord, keeping his hands above his head and trying not to gag.

They hadn’t even made it to the bedroom.

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

Six months later, Jaehwan was perched on his stool behind the bar at Fantasia, watching his boyfriend (they’d graduated to using the term _boyfriend_ in the company of friends, aka only when Taekwoon, Wonshik, or Hakyeon could hear) croon into the microphone on stage.

Sanghyuk looked particularly good that night, deep ruby waistcoat with black pinstripes highlighting every bump of muscle and curve of his silhouette. His broad shoulders and narrow waist. A fucking stunning human being.

Jaehwan sipped his gin rickey, just watching. Feeling himself growing slightly hot under the collar. He knew Sanghyuk wanted to have drinks with Hakyeon (whose shift was nearly over) and Wonshik (who had the night off) once his set was done, and the new singer Sanghyuk had been training was going to have his first performance. Some boy named Sungjae was going to take over the sets following Sanghyuk’s. Jaehwan had never met the boy but he’d been taking up quite a bit of Sanghyuk’s time recently, and Jaehwan had learned that time with those he loved is more precious than gold. Losing that time didn’t endear the boy to Jaehwan one bit.

“You want a fresh one before I clock out?” Hakyeon asked, tapping the side of Jaehwan’s empty glass. Jaehwan nodded. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Sanghyuk, not that he wanted to. The dim lights made his cheekbones look sharp enough to cut glass. The strong, flawless line of his jaw... A quote from somewhere bloomed in the back of Jaehwan’s mind: _‘I could cut myself slapping that face.’_

Presented with a new drink, Jaehwan sipped it absentmindedly. Gaze locked on his boyfriend. He managed to catch Sanghyuk’s eye near the end of the song and winked, rewarded with the flicker of a smile.

Another drink came and went, and then Sanghyuk’s set was over. He climbed down from the stage to the customary applause. Eyes glistening and temples slightly damp from sweat. Jaehwan watched him cross the room, covering the distance to the bar in a few long strides. Muscles shifting under his clothes as he shrugged on his jacket. Set his glasses back on the bridge of his nose.

“Good set, Hyukkie, as always,” Jaehwan hummed, standing and passing his drink to his boyfriend. Sanghyuk took it. Had half a sip. Gave it back. He was distracted, still glittering in the aftermath of performance but focused on something Jaehwan couldn’t see.

Jaehwan rested a hand on the small of Sanghyuk’s' back. A gutsy move considering they were still in public, something his boyfriend wouldn’t _normally_ allow, but Sanghyuk took it in stride. He didn’t even flinch. Maybe Sanghyuk was sick, that glint in his eye could be a fever.

“Are you feeling alright?” Jaehwan asked, going up on tiptoe so he could speak quietly.

Sanghyuk gave him only a moment's glance. “Of course, baby, I’m fine. Are _you_ alright? You look a little fuzzy.”

Wow, he really just dropped _baby_ in public. Maybe this was what progress looked like.

“Gotta a bit of an edge on is all.” Jaehwan was proud of himself at that, his assimilation into the 1920’s was nearly complete. Slang and all.

“I gotta play catch-up then.” With a gentle pat on Jaehwan’s cheek, Sanghyuk stepped away and signaled the bartender. Not Hakyeon, Jaehwan noticed belatedly, some random guy Jaehwan had never seen before.

Sanghyuk vanished and reappeared fast enough to make Jaehwan’s head spin, a glass in one hand and a man’s arm in the other. Not _just_ an arm, obviously, the arm was attached to another stranger. “Jae, I'd like you to meet my friend Sungjae, from back home.”

From back home? _Home..._

The man beamed at Jaehwan, reaching out to shake hands. Jaehwan shook. They were of a height, almost, the man’s chocolate brown hair not combed back in the style Jaehwan was growing accustomed to seeing nowadays, but rather hanging down over his forehead like a curtain. He was good looking, no doubt, sleek cheekbones and a confidant full mouth, but Jaehwan was still reeling from this new tidbit of information. _Home._

“It’s so good to finally meet you! Hyukah talks about you so often I feel like I already know you!”

“Unfortunately, I can’t return the sentiment,” Jaehwan replied in a faux-cheery tone, plastering a smile on his face and looking from Sanghyuk to Sungjae. “You mentioned home?”

“I was the year above Hyukah in school. Lord only knows why, we're the same age, but I guess I entered the system earlier than he did.”

_‘One of his buddies, a slim, well-built, outgoing specimen that was a year above Sanghyuk, had been hanging out with him after school. Sanghyuk looked up to the boy, almost idolizing him. He was the kind of person that was entirely comfortable in their surroundings.’_

“Well-“ Jaehwan cleared his throat, retracting his hand and clutching his glass, “That’s good. It’s good for Hyukkie to have familiar faces. Reminders of who he really is.”

Sungjae blinked, clearly unsure of Jaehwan’s meaning, but Sanghyuk was not. The look he gave Jaehwan was... poignant.

But this information had been _deliberately_ withheld. If Sanghyuk was attempting to ignite Jaehwan’s competitive spirit, such as it was, then he had succeeded. Jaehwan wasn’t a jealous person by nature, not exactly, but if this man was who Jaehwan thought he was, then Sungjae was ‘the childhood ex’ and Jaehwan had seen that movie. _A face from the past appears and steals the hero’s affections away._ That’s not how this movie was going to play out.

“Good luck on your first performance,” Jaehwan said, injecting his tone with a saccharine note that was anything but genuine. He stepped lightly to Sanghyuk’s side, liberated him of his glass, and sipped demurely. Pressing his back to Sanghyuk’s chest.

The man, Sungjae, gave Jaehwan a slightly crestfallen look. What, did he expect them to become instant friends just because they’ve slept with the same person? _As if._ Jaehwan fought to suppress a snort and turned around, summarily dismissing Sungjae from their little clump.

A quiet, “Thanks,” came from behind him and then retreating footsteps. Jaehwan returned Sanghyuk’s glass and sipped his own, smacking his lips at the familiar tang.

“Baby.”

Risking a glance upward, Jaehwan saw that a thin smile curled the corners of Sanghyuk’s mouth. He was _amused._ The cocky bastard.

“You don’t need to be jealous. Sungjae is my friend and nothing more.”

“Right now, maybe,” Jaehwan replied, shifting so he could watch Sanghyuk’s friend climb up on stage, “And I wasn’t being jealous. Just a bit protective.”

With only a low chuckle in response, Sanghyuk drifted away to a table in the corner at which sat Wonshik and Hakyeon. Jaehwan followed slower. Meandering. His feeling from earlier in the night hadn’t dissipated, quite the contrary, and watching Sanghyuk stretch his long legs under the table before he crossed them made the heat simmering under Jaehwan’s skin burn a little hotter.

He said his hellos to their two friends but didn’t sit. Standing behind Sanghyuk and placing a hand on his shoulder instead. Toying with his collar. Leaning down with his forearms braced on the back of Sanghyuk’s chair. Pressing close so he could whisper in Sanghyuk’s ear.

“You look so dreamy on stage, you know,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over the shell of Sanghyuk’s ear.

“Do I?”

Sungjae began a jazzy number, faster paced and more upbeat than the songs Sanghyuk favored. Jaehwan smiled to himself. “Yeah, you do. I could watch you up there for ages.”

“Could you?”

“It’s honestly kind of a turn on.”

No reply other than Sanghyuk shifting in place. The movement expressed his emotion more eloquently than if Sanghyuk had spoken. He was such a _physical_ person.

“When the spotlight hits-“ Jaehwan’s tongue darted out to moisten his bottom lip, _“God,_ you look so hot.”

Sanghyuk hummed wordlessly. His eyes were fixed on his friend, very pointedly not looking at Jaehwan.

“Makes me wanna taste you. Get on my knees and let you use me however you please.”

“Jaehwan.” A warning note in his low voice, pastel rose blooming on his cheeks. That downright precious blush.

“And your voice is so pretty, I wanna hear you moan my name.”

More shifting.

“I want you to moan for me while I suck your cock. Want you to fuck my mouth. I wanna choke and gag and feel your come slide down my throat.”

“Jaehwan we are in _public.”_

“What’s the matter Hyukkie, are you shy?”

Again, no verbal response. Jaehwan smiled wider. On the stage, Sungjae was walking over to stand by the piano as he sang.

“Don’t you want to do that for me? Use my mouth for your pleasure until I beg you to fuck me? Don’t you want to see the saliva dripping out of the corners of my mouth? Watch me blush when you shove me down to my knees?”

“I swear to the lord Christ _above_ Jaehwan if you don’t stop-“

_“Please,_ Hyukkie, hold me down and pull my hair and slap me while I choke on your cock. I’ll get on my knees right here and beg for you if you want. In front of everyone, so everyone can see just how much I _want_ you.”

A pause. Jaehwan was thoroughly enjoying himself, whispering naughty words in his boyfriends’ ear so softly that nobody else could hear. 

“Please, I want my throat so raw that I can’t talk properly for a week. Can you do that for me? I want to taste your cock, Hyukkie, lemme taste you. Lemme feel what it’s like to have your cock so deep that it makes my throat muscles contract. I wanna make you feel good, Hyukkie, _please?”_

Sanghyuk was on his feet, dragging Jaehwan through the crowd and out a door behind the bar before Jaehwan’s brain even registered he was moving. He swallowed the last of his gin rickey as they went, leaving it on a random shelf before Sanghyuk pulled him inside what appeared to be a janitor's closet. _How picturesque._

“What’s gotten into you?!”

Jaehwan hummed, lifting a hand to the side of Sanghyuk’s neck. A whisper-gentle caress, lazy fingertips brushing the underside of his sharp jaw. “I told you already, watching you perform turns me on.”

“You can’t talk like that here, not around these people. You can’t be so- _explicit.”_ Sanghyuk’s chest was heaving, breath coming fast and shallow as Jaehwan pressed up against him.

“I can’t help it, Hyukkie, my filter isn’t working at the moment.”

With a frustrated huff, Sanghyuk’s hands found Jaehwan’s shoulders and he shoved the elder to his knees. “Then follow through. Or are you all bark and no bite?”

“I’ll bite,” Jaehwan replied, grinning as he fumbled the buckle of Sanghyuk’s belt open, “But only if you ask nicely.”

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

Jaehwan was in the kitchen, Muffin leaping around his feet as he prepared dinner for the puppy and himself.

It was April now, and the slight chill of west coast winter had been steadily siphoned away by rain for weeks. It left the air cool but humid, Jaehwan’s hair and clothes sticking to him more than usual. Unpleasant.

He’d been there for almost a full year, living with Sanghyuk, making a home together. Living and working in this still slightly alien world. But Jaehwan was _content._ For the first time in a long while, he was content and happy and at peace with himself. He had good friends, a man that loved him, a roof over his head, a fun job... even a puppy! The entire thing was so thoroughly domestic that Jaehwan occasionally felt like it was a dream. The kind of dream he never wanted to wake from.

“I’m almost done, will you relax,” Jaehwan giggled, smiling fondly down at the dog now trying to tug his sock off with its pointy little teeth. The veggie and chicken stir fry crackled merrily on its burner and Jaehwan was just taking out a plate when the front door banged open.

“Hyukkie?” Jaehwan called, not having heard the lock click. Maybe he’d left it open when he’d gotten home from the store earlier? Although Sanghyuk didn’t usually make such a loud entrance.

Jaehwan set his plate on the counter and turned off the stove, wiping his hands on a dishtowel as he padded out to the living room. Sanghyuk was standing there, sopping wet, shaking slightly where he stood framed in the doorway.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?!” Jaehwan exclaimed, dropping the towel and hurrying to Sanghyuk’s side. He nudged the door closed with his foot, brushing the wet strands of hair off his boyfriend's face. Stomach churning with worry. “Hyukkie, you’re soaked through! Come here!”

Jaehwan took Sanghyuk’s hands and tried to lead him to the couch but Sanghyuk wouldn’t budge. On closer inspection, he saw that Sanghyuk’s eyes were wide and glassy, rimmed in red like he’d been crying, the sleeve of his shirt had been torn at the seam. “What happened to you?! Did you get in a fight?!”

Sanghyuk’s head swiveled and he peered down at Jaehwan, not like he was really seeing him. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, his trembling fingers curling around Jaehwan’s cuffs.

“I think I just killed someone.”

Jaehwan froze, a sheet of icy panic running through him like someone had dumped a bucket of water over his head. “You _what?”_

“I think-” Sanghyuk squeezed his eyes shut and gulped. He was breathing too fast, almost hyperventilating. “I was working and- the guy tried to rush my boss, he- he had a gun and was shouting and I had to do something, it’s my _job,_ so I grabbed him and tried to get the gun away like I was trained to do and it- it... it went off. There was blood _everywhere,_ I didn’t know what to do- Wonshik was trying to help but my boss said he would have people take care of it and told me to go home and I couldn’t drive I couldn’t get the fucking car to start so I walked and I kept walking until I got here and-”

“Hyukkie, breathe for me, just calm down,” Jaehwan interrupted, belatedly noticing the specks of red spray across Sanghyuk’s chest and neck. Muffin had gone mercifully quiet, sensing the tension in the room, and was sitting at Sanghyuk’s feet. His little head cocked curiously to the side.

This was what Jaehwan had been afraid of. That something would go wrong, the little intimidation routine Sanghyuk employed when he was doing those side jobs would go too far and someone would get hurt. _Fuck,_ but Jaehwan was sick with relief that Sanghyuk wasn’t the one that got shot.

“I didn’t want to shoot him, Jae, I- I hadn’t even pulled my gun, I just wanted to get his away from him but-”

“I know you didn't, sweetheart, I know you’d never do that, It’s okay. You’re okay, everything is going to be fine,” Jaehwan murmured, trying his best not to let his own anxiety show. Sanghyuk had enough of his own to deal with without having to see Jaehwan’s.

Sanghyuk finally allowed himself to be moved, Jaehwan walking backwards with their hands entwined until they reached the couch. “Do you want something to eat?”

_God, I sound like my mother,_ Jaehwan thought. A painful memory of his mom’s attempts to feed anyone under any sort of duress tried to stab at his heart. He didn’t allow the pain to settle. It wouldn’t be helpful.

“I can’t- I feel like I’m going to throw up,” Sanghyuk mumbled, his ashen pallor indicating that such an occurrence would come sooner rather than later. Jaehwan smoothed circles into his boyfriend’s broad back, letting Sanghyuk cling to him. He wanted to ask more questions but didn’t want it to come off as an interrogation.

Jaehwan cleared his throat. “Did he die, the man?”

“I don’t know, he was breathing when I left but I don’t think my boss would allow that to continue for much longer-”

Sanghyuk stumbled to his feet and jogged to the kitchen, folding over and emptying the contents of his stomach into the sink. He must not have eaten much, only bile and dry heaving, but it broke Jaehwan’s heart to see.

Jaehwan stood by him, not wanting to crowd Sanghyuk but stroking his hair in a manner he hoped was comforting. After a few minutes, Sanghyuk swished his mouth with water from the tap and let it run, Jaehwan grabbing a towel and dampening it so he could dab at Sanghyuk’s forehead. He was so clammy.

“No more talking about it- I don’t want to think about it anymore, I don't want to think about anything...” Sanghyuk’s words trailed off like he’d lost interest in them halfway through, eyes sliding out of focus. He wobbled to the opposite counter and dug his emergency bottle of bootleg out of the cabinet. Not a bad idea, Jaehwan supposed, something to help steady his nerves. Jaehwan wouldn’t mind a bit himself.

What would the legal ramifications of this be? Was the interaction seen? Were there any witnesses other than the boss and his gang? If Wonshik was there, then why hadn’t he come here with Sanghyuk? They didn’t have DNA yet, Jaehwan couldn’t even _begin_ to fathom what a criminal investigation would look like now. Probably a lot of hunches and following one's gut. Even still, could Sanghyuk be implicated in this stranger's death? Would he be turned in? Arrested? Sent to prison?! If things went down as Sanghyuk had described then it could plausibly be an act of self-defense, although nobody at that meeting was up to any good in the first place, so self-defense may not carry very far.

“I have to feed Muffin,” Jaehwan said quietly, complying with Sanghyuk’s request to end the conversation. _For now._

He moved around the kitchen, lost in a swirl of anxious thoughts, and spooned a helping of the sautéed chicken into one of the small dog dishes. Jaehwan crouched down to set the dish on the floor in the corner by Muffin’s water bowl and the puppy licked his cheek. It nearly made Jaehwan cry.

Sanghyuk hovered behind Jaehwan as the elder put the remaining stir fry in a covered dish and deposited it in the fridge, an appliance that Sanghyuk called an _ice box_ and which had apparently cost twice as much as his car. Jaehwan couldn’t eat either. His appetite had fled upon hearing Sanghyuk’s news.

“You know,” Jaehwan murmured, leading his unsteady boyfriend back to the sofa, “I will have known you for a year as of next month.”

Dropping onto the center cushion, Sanghyuk drew Jaehwan down sideways onto his lap. Wrapped an arm around Jaehwan’s thighs. Nuzzled Jaehwan’s neck. “I know, I already have a plan made to celebrate our anniversary.”

Jaehwan let out a shaky sigh. He relieved Sanghyuk of the bootleg and swigged the burning liquid straight from the bottle. It nearly choked him on the way down, but the heat did something to stabilize his turbulent emotions. “I didn’t know we had an official anniversary. And, if we did, wouldn’t it be in late July or August sometime?”

“I fell in love with you the instant I laid eyes on you. That first day has always been what I imagined our anniversary would be.”

A chuckle escaped Jaehwan despite his worry.

“You’re my strength, baby, your nearness brings my heart warmth,” Sanghyuk added quietly. He took the bottle back, hugging it to his chest like a child with a precious doll. Apparently oblivious to the fact that Jaehwan was gaping at him. The younger man was free with his physical affections at home, but verbal declarations were rare.

“So,” Jaehwan replied, forcing himself not to ask _who_ exactly it was that Sanghyuk had _shot,_ “You’ve thought about our anniversary often?”

Sanghyuk nodded, Jaehwan curling into his side. “I think about it all the time. How lucky I was to have found you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Hyukkie.”

With a cheerful bark, Muffin leapt up onto the sofa and catapulted himself onto the both of them, licking at their faces before settling on Jaehwan’s lap, his furry little head buried against Sanghyuk’s stomach. The picture of a perfect nuclear family. At least from the perspective of a stranger that happened to be looking through the window.

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

It was May 20th. It was _the_ day.

Jaehwan had woken up that morning to breakfast in bed, two steaming mugs of sweetened coffee and plates of fluffy pancakes. He and Sanghyuk had eaten under the covers, using the quilt like a tent. They’d ended up spending most of the morning in bed, as it happened. Ruining the sheets.

Then a fancy late lunch downtown (Sanghyuk always found Jaehwan’s use of the word _Linner_ absolutely hysterical for some reason), steak and fries. Just like they’d had the day after Jaehwan’s arrival. Recreating the first real meal they’d ever eaten together.

Once that was done, they’d taken a drive along the coast, up and down the steep cliffs lining the ocean below until they reached a beach. It was rarely warm by the shore, the environment leaned more towards the stereotypical chilly fog of the pacific than anything tropical or inviting. But the lack of sunshine didn’t matter. Jaehwan and Sanghyuk had left their coats and shoes in the car, laid on the sand, scavenged for seashells, and taunted the lapping surf. Shrieking and running when the frigid water nipped at their bare feet.

They’d returned home and showered together, washing stray grains of sand from each other's hair and exchanging soapy kisses under the warm water. In Jaehwan’s opinion, there was nothing more heavenly than showering with someone he loved. A few moments of intimacy. Affection. Calm. Peace. Cradled in the warmth of the water as well as the warmth that bloomed in their hearts.

Jaehwan had been reluctant to get out, keeping Sanghyuk under the spray until their fingertips had pruned up. But eventually the water had begun to grow cold, and that was significantly less pleasant. So, they’d dressed in clean clothes (plain slacks and a white button down with suspenders for Jaehwan, customary suit pants and waistcoat for Sanghyuk), collected Muffin from Taekwoon, and decided to take a walk. Stretch their legs and breathe the warm night air.

“Somehow, every time I look at you, you get more beautiful,” Sanghyuk said softly, breaking the comfortable silence that had stretched between them as they walked. Jaehwan hip-checked him with a laugh. “You’re so cheesy.”

“It’s true. You make the world brighter just by being here.” Muffin tugged on his leash, attempting to drag them along faster so he could smell more smells. The leash was wrapped around Jaehwan’s wrist and each tug threatened to tear Jaehwan’s hand from his body. Their puppy was small, but his strength was surprising.

“When did you get so romantic?” Jaehwan asked, the joking note clear in his tone.

Something brought Sanghyuk up short. It took Jaehwan a few extra paces to notice that his boyfriend was no longer walking at his side.

“Hyukkie?”

Glancing over his shoulder, Jaehwan saw that Sanghyuk had stopped walking. He was staring at a bench on the sidewalk. A wooden bench, painted dark green, situated beside a signpost. A bench that Jaehwan instantly recognized. A bench they hadn’t visited in months.

“I have something for you,” Sanghyuk said, drawing Jaehwan back to him. Jaehwan went willingly, the puppy, not so much.

“If it’s an anniversary present, I left yours at home,” Jaehwan replied. He hadn’t known what an appropriate gift would have been in this day and age, but Jaehwan knew Sanghyuk, knew what he liked and what he was passionate about. Jaehwan had gotten Sanghyuk a guitar. An acoustic guitar, not that there was really any alternative to acoustic yet, but even if there were such things as electric guitars, Jaehwan thought Sanghyuk would prefer acoustic. A softer, more soulful sound. “It’s hidden under the bed in the guestroom, I've been keeping it secret for weeks.”

“I’d like to give you mine here, if that’s alright with you. This spot is important to me.”

“Han Sanghyuk, if you’re about to propose to me, I’m going to thwack you with my shoe!”

“No, no. Nothing like that,” Sanghyuk replied, a grin cracking across his face. He pulled a folded handkerchief from his trouser pocket and passed it over. As soon as it rested in Jaehwan’s palm, it was apparent that there was something inside the square of cotton. Something solid and heavy and circular.

Jaehwan squinted.

“Before you look, this isn’t the entirety of my present,” Sanghyuk continued. His large hand closed around Jaehwan’s, tilting Jaehwan’s face up with a crooked finger under his chin. “I’m quitting Fantasia.”

“You’re what?!”

“I’m quitting Fantasia. Tomorrow, first thing. And as soon as that’s done, I’m going to take you home and introduce you to my family. My sister is going to adore you.”

Jaehwan squealed, whether it was more from relief or delight, he couldn’t say. Sanghyuk was going to be free! And he was going to take Jaehwan home! God, this day couldn’t _possibly_ get any better!

Going up on tiptoe, Jaehwan wrapped his arms around Sanghyuk’s neck and kissed him deeply. Even though they were in public and someone could walk by at any moment, Sanghyuk didn’t push him away. Simply settled a palm on Jaehwan’s hip and kissed him back.

“Now, open your present,” Sanghyuk sighed, forming the words against Jaehwan’s lips.

Jaehwan hummed, peppering his boyfriend's face with kisses. He was too happy.

“Just open it.”

The urge was a gentle one, and Jaehwan _did_ open it, giving in and unfolding the handkerchief one corner at a time.

A small, silver pocket watch lay nestled inside. The cover was unadorned, its surface as smooth and reflective as a mirror. Jaehwan clicked it open and his breath caught in his chest. The watch's face was _astounding._ Mother of pearl etched with roman numerals, inlaid with a single small sapphire above the number twelve. Obsidian hands ticking steadily like a heartbeat.

“Look at the inscription.”

Sanghyuk tapped the inside of the cover. Jaehwan snatched up his hand and sat on the bench, unable to tear his eyes from the gift. Muffin tried to tug on the leash again but Jaehwan wrapped it around his palm, making sure the puppy couldn’t pull free and run off. Onto the inside of the cover of the watch was inscribed the word _‘Star-crossed’._

“Time brought us together, it brought you to me- I don’t know. I thought it was fitting,” Sanghyuk said quietly, giving Jaehwan’s hand a little squeeze.

Jaehwan looked up at him, radiant in the moonlight, and then back down at the watch. “It’s the most wonderful gift I’ve ever received, Sanghyuk, thank you,” he replied, releasing Sanghyuk so he could cup the watch in his palms like a baby bird.

A blink. His eyelids closing and opening again in less than a heartbeat.

Everything _changed._

Not like melting or distortion. No hallucinogenic illusions. Before he blinked, Jaehwan was sitting on the green bench in 1920. And after, the instant his eyes opened, he _wasn’t._

Noise assaulted him from every side. Music and honking of thousands of car horns and people speaking. And light. There was so much _light,_ the humming of fluorescent bulbs like bees trapped in a jar.

Jaehwan couldn’t even scream. His senses were too overwhelmed, the watch in his hand no longer ticking, Muffin barking, the leash still wrapped around his wrist and palm yanking and yanking and _yanking._

“No.”

He’d let go of Sanghyuk not even ten seconds before. If he’d only held on a minute longer-

_“No!”_

Jaehwan flew to his feet, staring around at the plexiglass bus shelter in horror. It couldn’t have happened again. _Not again._ He’d lost his life once, he couldn’t go through this a second time, he just _couldn’t._ He wasn’t strong enough to lose everything _twice._

“Jaehwan?!”

That voice. That smooth, rich voice that Jaehwan had mourned and grieved and never thought he’d hear again. _No._

“Jesus fucking Christ, Jaehwan! You’re here!”

Hongbin was in front of him, hugging him, her arms around him in a strangling embrace. Jaehwan pushed her away, spinning in a circle and looking frantically around for Sanghyuk, his heart breaking when no Sanghyuk materialized at his side. Muffin wouldn’t stop barking. His leash still wrapped around Jaehwan’s wrist. Just like the overnight bag that had been strapped across Jaehwan’s chest the first time he-

“Where the fuck have you been! It’s been a fucking _year,_ Jaehwan! We all thought you’d been kidnapped or killed! Where were you!? And what are you wearing?! I only came tonight because I thought maybe you’d come home but none of us had any hope left-”

Jaehwan couldn’t hear this now. He couldn’t hear her voice, couldn’t hear her words, they would wreck him utterly. Instead of listening, Jaehwan took off at a dead sprint, running down the platform with muffin easily keeping pace at his side. His eyes burned with tears, mournful sobs bruising his soul.

Behind him, the sound of footsteps following were barely distinguishable from the _noise_ around him. Everything was so _loud._

“Jaehwan, _stop!_ Come here!”

All at once, Jaehwan lost the will to run. He collapsed mid stride, skinning the heels of his hands on the concrete ground and curling up in a ball. Frightened tears clinging trails down his cheeks. Muffin jumped on him and he snatched the puppy up, hugging it against his chest and crying into its fur. “Sanghyuk,” he whimpered, trying to hide from the abrasive lights and sounds threatening to cave in his skull, “Sanghyuk, I'm so sorry!”

“Baby, what the fuck is wrong!? What’s going on?! Whose dog is that?!”

Hongbin crouched over him, trying to brush the tears from Jaehwan’s cheeks, but Jaehwan slapped her away again. He couldn’t bear hearing that sweet name from another person's mouth. Couldn’t bear that touch on his skin, skin that called out for Sanghyuk’s large hands, that gentleness that meshed so effortlessly with violence that the switch was borderline frightening.

What was Sanghyuk going to do _now?_ If this was really happening then Sanghyuk would have seen him travel, seen him vanish. Would Sanghyuk have looked for him? Try to find him and bring him back to their home where he belonged? Or would Sanghyuk have moved on, run into the arms of his ex-lover after all and let Jaehwan’s memory decay until he didn't remember Jaehwan at all? Would Jaehwan be relegated to a blip on the timeline of Sanghyuk’s life and nothing more?

_Oh god,_ Sanghyuk would be dead now. It had been a hundred years. He’d already been twenty-five. there was no way Sanghyuk was still alive. Jaehwan let out a cry of anguish as that realization _impaled_ him.

The pocket watch was still clutched in his fist, his grip so tight that the metal was biting into his skin. It would have stopped working now, if his old watch was any indication.

Jaehwan couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t make his mouth form the words required to get Hongbin to leave him alone. To let him go. She _had_ to have let him go by now, it had been a whole fucking year, why was she here?!

“Let me go back,” Jaehwan sobbed, shrinking, curling in on himself as waves of pain crashed over him again and again and again. Unyielding and unrelenting. “Please, just let me go back, _please...”_

“Baby, who’s dog is that?”

“It’s _my_ dog!” Jaehwan shouted, his voice breaking halfway through the sentence. “This is my dog, don’t you fucking touch him!”

“Fucking Christ,” Hongbin snapped, getting her hands under Jaehwan’s arms and hauling him to his feet, dog and all, “I’m taking you home. And I have to call your parents! I don’t know where the hell you’ve been, but we had a funeral for you! Do you understand that?! The police told us that you were almost certainly dead!”

Jaehwan fought. He fought hard, not caring if he hurt himself or anyone around him. The watch Sanghyuk gave him stuffed into his trouser pocket, Jaehwan tried to run again. It didn’t work out too well. Hongbin’s fingers had hooked through his belt loops and dragged him back, her arms coming around Jaehwan’s waist until he stopped trying to escape.

“Come on,” she huffed, hauling Jaehwan and Muffin toward the exit of the bus terminal. Ignoring the startled looks of the people around them and keeping a firm grip on his arms until they reached her car.

Jaehwan couldn’t stop crying. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to stop crying again.

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

“He’s not a danger to himself or others, I’m afraid we can’t keep him any longer,” the doctor said, scribbling on a clipboard and speaking to Jaehwan’s parents over his head.

When Hongbin had brought him back home, Jaehwan had been inconsolable. Nobody knew what was wrong with him, nobody could understand what he’d gone through, and after nearly a day's worth of debate, they’d taken Muffin away and checked him into a mental hospital for a 72-hour psych eval.

Jaehwan may be _a bit_ crazy, but he wasn’t stupid. He didn’t tell anyone in that fucking _prison_ that he’d time-traveled. Twice. He hadn’t actually spoken at all. Retreating into his well of memories every time a doctor tried to ask him questions.

So, after three days with no violence or outbursts of any kind, Jaehwan was being returned to sender.

Jaehwan watched his parents through narrowed eyes, now wearing a sweat suit they’d brought for him instead of his nice shirt and trousers. The pocket watch was safe at his apartment at least, even if they’d taken his 20’s clothing away. Jaehwan had hidden his anniversary present somewhere nobody would ever find it.

He zoned out again as the doctor talked through the particulars of his release with his parents. Pretending he was in the shower with Sanghyuk. Soft kisses on his nose and Sanghyuk’s fingers gently lathering the shampoo in his hair. In his mind, Jaehwan poked at the little mole on Sanghyuk’s hip, listening to the phantom timbre of Sanghyuk’s chuckle. That was his happy place.

Once his discharge paperwork had been filled out, Jaehwan trailed his parents out of the hospital. Arms wrapped around himself, eyes darting. His parents didn’t know how to behave around him anymore. The easy familiarity was gone. After he’d screamed at them to _‘go away and just let me die’,_ they’d stopped trying to speak to him. Skirting around him like he was a landmine that could detonate at any moment.

Hongbin was waiting outside, Muffin leashed to her hand, and Jaehwan fell upon the puppy. Snatching it up and cradling it against his chest. A tangible reminder that he _hadn’t_ lost his mind. That everything that had happened, that the life he’d lived, was real. That _Sanghyuk_ was real.

“How are you feeling today?” Hongbin asked, resting a tentative hand on his arm.

Jaehwan flinched away. He didn’t answer her, didn't get into the car that was idling on the curb. He’d walk home, Jaehwan decided, turning and striding away from his family before any of them could protest. His dad may have called his name but Jaehwan tuned it out. This world was still too _loud._

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

“Baby, where were you?”

“Don’t call me that,” Jaehwan snapped, kicking the front door shut behind himself and stalking through the living room. His own living room. Taekwoon’s living room, in another life. The living room of the top unit. “And why are you still here?”

Jaehwan set down the arm full of library books he’d checked out, stacking them on the kitchen table. Time travel books. Science books. Theory of general and spatial relativity. Tipler’s infinite cylinder. Black holes, worm holes, cosmic strings, the whole shebang.

Muffin came bounding out of the bedroom and bumped into Jaehwan’s shins, yipping with excitement. Jaehwan couldn’t help a small smile at that, scooping the puppy into his arms and kissing its nose. Muffin licked his cheek.

“I’m still here,” Hongbin replied, the forced non-confrontational note in her voice making Jaehwan want to scream, “Because I am worried about you.”

“You aren’t _worried_ about me; you’ve never been worried about me. I’m just less boring now.”

“You weren’t boring before.”

“Yes, I was,” Jaehwan muttered, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor as he carried Muffin into the kitchen. “All I ever talked about was my webcomic and fucking marvel movies. As bland as a piece of dry toast.”

Jaehwan set Muffin back on the ground and opened the freezer, snagging one of the bottles of gin he’d bought the night before. Where were the cigs? Not in the freezer obviously, but he’d left them somewhere in the kitchen. He unscrewed the bottle top and swallowed a mouthful, hissing under his breath as the liquor tried to burn his throat. This present-day shit was so weak compared to bootleg it was almost funny.

“Did you steal my cigs?” Jaehwan asked, glaring at Hongbin over his shoulder.

Hongbin was standing there with her arms crossed, leaning up against the doorframe like this was _her_ fucking house. It _wasn’t._ Hongbin had left, of her own free will. She had no claim to this place any longer.

“Yeah. I’m not letting you pick that habit back up.”

“Pick it back up?” Jaehwan scoffed, “You mean that you want me to quit again. I picked it back up last year, now where did you put them?”

Hongbin raised her chin, managing to look at Jaehwan down her nose despite being roughly an inch shorter. “Not telling.”

“Don’t be a fucking child, Bin, it’s unattractive.”

Jaehwan clutched the neck of the bottle tight in one fist, shouldering past Hongbin and back into the living room. He genuinely couldn’t deal with this right then. Not on top of everything else. “If you don’t tell me where they are, I’m going to go buy some more. Are you going to make me go for another walk?”

A heavy pause. A one-sided staring contest. Hongbin glaring at Jaehwan’s back, Jaehwan shuffling his library books around. Stacking them first alphabetically and then by descending size.

“In the oven.”

“You hid them in the _oven?!”_

“Last time I checked, you don’t cook. You have no use for ovens.”

“Oh, fuck off, will you? I cook plenty.” The words felt like ashes on Jaehwan’s tongue, bitter and sharp, but he didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, Jaehwan was talking to a ghost.

“You didn’t used to cook! If you’d just explain to me where you’ve been then maybe-“

Jaehwan stomped back into the kitchen, yanking the oven door open and retrieving the carton of Marlboro menthol 100’s from where Hongbin had stashed them. At least he could have proper menthols now, no more Lucky’s. Somehow, not seeing the Lucky Strike logo on the packs made Jaehwan feel lessened. Like something vital had been taken from his body, his liver or his heart.

_Sanghyuk, dressing gown over his slacks and button-down, smoking in the backyard with his legs crossed and reading the newspaper._ A phantom image flaring behind Jaehwan’s eyelids. A burst of fresh pain in his stomach.

“Don’t smoke in the house.”

“I’ll smoke wherever the fuck I want!” Jaehwan shouted, rounding on Hongbin. All the loss and despair he was trying to tamp down compounding into anger. “You left, or did you conveniently forget that you dumped me a year ago? You have no right to tell me what to do or not to do!”

Hongbin recoiled from the words like they were a physical blow. “I left because it was obvious you didn’t love me anymore, Jaehwan! What did you expect? Me to hang around forever just to keep you company?! It wasn’t healthy!”

“And you think _this_ is healthy?!” Jaehwan shouted, Muffin barking at their increase in volume. “Hanging around here because you think I’m damaged goods? What’s the fucking point, Bin? Are you going to try and rehabilitate me!?”

“I want to help you! I want you to talk to me! Is that such a _horrible_ thought that you feel the need to lash out at me every two seconds?!”

Jaehwan sank to the floor, tucking his knees against his chest, barely feeling it when Muffin started licking at the backs of his hands. “No, it doesn’t justify anything, I just don’t understand why you care now.”

Soft footsteps. Arms coming around him. A forehead pressed to his temple. “I never stopped loving you. I missed you and I thought I was doing the right thing when I tried to end things. I thought I was setting you free,” Hongbin said quietly, holding Jaehwan close. Maneuvering Jaehwan around so his head was resting on her shoulder.

Jaehwan couldn’t hold it in any longer. The tears began to flow from him like someone had left a tap running. “Hwannie, baby, please don’t cry. Just tell me where you’ve been all this time.”

_All this time. How fitting._

“You said you had a funeral for me,” Jaehwan hiccupped, squeezing his eyes shut, “I had a funeral for you too. All of you. My parents, my brothers, my friends... and you. I mourned for you, grieved for you, and then accepted you were gone. And now I’m here. You’re back and I’ve lost everything all over again.”

“Baby, what are you talking about?” Hongbin asked, stroking the back of Jaehwan’s head. She genuinely sounded confused and it’s not like Jaehwan could blame her. He hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with the details of his time away.

Jaehwan tried to take a deep breath and failed. “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

“Yes, I would, baby, please just talk to me. I’m here to support you, what harm could it do?”

“Don’t call me that,” Jaehwan repeated, for what felt like the fifteen thousandth time. Hearing _baby_ in Hongbin’s voice, the word echoing through his consciousness in Sanghyuk’s voice, made Jaehwan want to scream. “I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not _pity,_ Hwannie, it’s love!” Hongbin took Jaehwan’s face in her hands, cupping his cheeks, big brown eyes shining with worry. “Watching you hurt this way is breaking my heart.”

“Then you should leave,” Jaehwan replied, voice empty, a picture of Sanghyuk’s face materializing when he closed his eyes to blink.

Hongbin gave him a frighteningly serious look, flicking her chestnut hair out of her eyes with and unconscious twitch. “I’m not leaving. No matter how much you say you don’t want me here, I know you don’t want to be alone.”

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

Jaehwan lay in his bed that night, Hongbin next to him, a wall of pillows in between them so there would be no accidental touches.

Unable to sleep despite the steady intake of liquor he’d consumed since that afternoon, Jaehwan was playing with his new phone in the dark. His old phone was in his overnight bag, in the back of the closet in the guest room downstairs. _In 1921._ So, his parents had gotten him this one, the newest generation iPhone, and had sent his eldest brother to deliver it yesterday. Hoping that maybe Jaehwan would be more willing to talk to siblings than he was willing to talk to them. It didn’t work.

_Google: Han Sanghyuk_

_Result~_

  * _832 LinkedIn profiles for Han Sanghyuk_
  * _Han Sanghyuk on Facebook, 56 years old from Daegu, South Korea_
  * _‘Boy Band Pop Sensation, Youngest Member Makes a Splash in His New Drama with a Shirtless Photoshoot: Read More Here’_



Jaehwan grumbled under his breath, half tempted to check out those topless pictures, but eventually clicking the search bar to try something else.

_Google: Club Fantasia near me_

_Result~_

  * _AD: Fantasy Brand Club Soda, Add a dash of magic to every cocktail._
  * _‘Famous speakeasies from the 1920’s and 1930’s’_
  * _Yelp: Club Fantasia, 5 out of 5 stars (2389 reviews)_
  * _‘Welcome to Club Fantasia, established 1893. Make a Reservation, FAQ’s, About Us...’_



Well that was certainly more promising. Jaehwan bypassed the Yelp reviews and Buzzfeed article, clicking on the club’s personal website. Artsy closeups of cocktails. Aesthetic details. People in 20’s costume posing by the bar.

It seemed that Fantasia had pivoted in the century since Jaehwan had seen it. No longer an illegal underground bar, it was now an ‘Illegal Underground Bar’. A destination. Get your picture taken with mobster lookalikes and drink authentic 1920’s cocktails, visitors have to use a secret password to enter, that sort of place. Like an escape room, but the goal was to get in rather than out. It was disappointing but Jaehwan tried to make a reservation anyway, just to see the inside of a familiar place. The club was booked out for the next six months. Great.

He clicked back to the homepage and then went to the ‘Our History’ tab.

_‘...Established in 1893, Club Fantasia has been operating as a drinking den for almost one hundred and thirty years. From 1920 to 1929, prohibition era, the club migrated underground and the ground floor was used as a cigar shop to avoid suspicion from the authorities. Fantasia was never raided once during that tumultuous time, a miracle by all accounts, and remained unharmed and uninvestigated throughout the prohibition era._

_The same cannot be said for fantasias owner and operator. Jerry Feri, our fair city’s top crime lord at the time, was found murdered in his apartment on April 28, 1929. His killing was the spark that ignited a gang war that left five major crime families leaderless and lasted until 1932._

_Despite his death and the dismantling of the Feri Crime Family, Fantasia was taken over by the Lanza Family, along with Feri’s other businesses including chop shops, gun running operations, and drug dealing syndicate. Under Lanza ownership, Fantasia...’_

Oh shit.

Jaehwan’s vision drifted out of focus, mussing his hair distractedly. Sanghyuk- _oh Sanghyuk,_ he said he was going to quit Fantasia, but would he have kept that promise after Jaehwan disappeared? Jaehwan didn’t kid himself, Sanghyuk was quitting for Jaehwan’s peace of mind as much as his own. That time last month, when the gun had gone off and that guy got shot had emphasized _just_ how bad Sanghyuk’s work situation was. It had changed something, made it more real for both of them. And a lot more frightening.

But without Jaehwan, what excuse did Sanghyuk have to get out? No lover worried for his safety, no more domestic paradise. Other than Taekwoon, all of Sanghyuk’s friends worked at Fantasia. That’s where his social circle centered. Jaehwan seriously doubted Sanghyuk would give them up. He wouldn’t have anyone else.

This opened a brand-new Pandora’s box of terror and foreboding in Jaehwan’s mind.

He changed research strategies, navigating away from Fantasia and deep-diving local crime history. If there was information about Sanghyuk to be found anywhere, it wouldn’t appear from just googling his name.

It wasn’t until 4:32 am that Jaehwan found something concrete. He’d signed up for a trial membership on Ancestry, trying to track down info from their database of primary and secondary sources.

Jaehwan knew Sanghyuk’s birthday and full name and who comprised his family, _obviously._ He knew where Sanghyuk was born, where he’d lived, plenty of information to track him down. And sure enough, a little leaf popped up next to his name on the Han family tree.

It was a list. Scanned into a pdf and transcribed in type below.

_SFPD Open Source Records: Suspected Gang Related Deaths, 1925-1930’_

Jaehwan skimmed down the list, his heart in his throat, until he saw it. Right near the bottom. Written by hand in scratchy cursive.

_Date: May 20, 1929_

_Name: Han Sanghyuk_

_Identification Status: Positive_

_Cause of Death: Gunshot wound to lower abdomen, severe hemorrhaging_

_Location: Residence, Corner of Jones street and O’Farrell_

_Suspects: Alfredo Scariso_

Jaehwan clapped a hand to his mouth to stifle a scream, eyes blurring with tears. He’d only been- _a few hasty mental calculations_ -thirty-three? Sanghyuk had died at age thirty-three, shot to death on their anniversary. That day was fucking cursed, it had to be, too much went wrong on May 20th for it to be just a normal date.

So, Sanghyuk _hadn’t_ quit Fantasia if this list was to be believed. He’d still been involved with his boss, and that involvement had gotten him killed.

His phone pinged softly, another leaf appearing beside Sanghyuk’s name. Jaehwan clicked it. Full of despair, hoping the second source would provide more insight into his boyfriend’s life after his disappearance.

Not a list this time, a clipping from an old-timey newspaper that Jaehwan recognized immediately. It was the paper Sanghyuk read every morning. It wasn’t a front-page headline, but the article wasn’t small either.

_‘Local Singer Found Dead, Gang Involvement Suspected_

_May 21, 1929_

_On the morning of May 21st, the body of a young man was discovered in his home by upstairs neighbor and close friend, the noted jewelry designer Jung Taekwoon. Positively identified as Han Sanghyuk (age 33), veteran of the 28th Infantry Regiment of the First Division and former lounge singer, this death follows a string of similar murders, all with suspicious circumstances._

_According to an inside source, Mr. Han was allegedly shot to death in his home and died from blood loss. The front door had been kicked in and the furniture was in disarray, but authorities believe this tactic was an attempt to make the murder look like a robbery gone wrong, rather than what it truly was, a gang sanctioned hit. What makes this particular killing even more suspicious is the evidence that was collected from the man’s body._

_Our source told us that, aside from a firearm, billfold, and pack of cigarettes, there was a folded square of paper in Mr. Han’s trouser pocket. A photograph of an unidentified male dressed in woman’s underthings. The presence of this photograph appears to be an attempt to smear both Mr. Han’s character and the reputation of his suspected gang affiliates, branding them as perverts and homosexuals.’_

Jaehwan’s heart dropped from his throat to the pit of his stomach like a rock sinking to the bottom of a pond. Sanghyuk had died downstairs. That picture had to have been of him, one of the ones from Taekwoon’s kink-wear advertising pamphlet that Sanghyuk had kept. He’d carried a picture of Jaehwan in his pocket even after nearly nine years. _Fuck._

The need to move, to do something, anything, was overpowering. Jaehwan rolled out of bed, barking his shin on his nightstand but barely feeling the pain. He didn’t bother flicking on the light. Jaehwan could maneuver around this room with very little conscious thought, and he wasn’t going far. First to his closet for a hoodie, his dresser for a thick pair of socks, then to the desk in the corner to retrieve his charging laptop.

“Hwannie, what are you doing?” Hongbin called, her voice croaky from sleep. Jaehwan glanced at her for barely a moment, only long enough to note that Hongbin was propped up in bed, rubbing an eye with her palm.

“Nothing, go back to sleep.”

Annoyingly, Hongbin didn’t go back to sleep. She shook her head like a dog trying to get water out of its ears, stumbling out of bed and trailing Jaehwan into the living room. Muffin nipped at the leg of Jaehwan’s sweatpants. The whole apartment was now awake and on the move.

“Coffee,” Hongbin grumbled, moving off into the kitchen. Jaehwan watched her go out of the corner of his eye. Hongbin was wearing one of his sweatshirts. It was already oversized on Jaehwan and the hem reached almost all the way down to the edge of her shorts. With her mussed-up hair, it was a _horribly_ endearing picture.

Jaehwan looked away. Looking wouldn’t do either of them any good. He planted himself on the couch and folded his legs up, balancing his laptop on his knees.

Before Hongbin had convinced him to try and sleep, Jaehwan had begun his time travel research in earnest. Skimming the books, he’d checked out from the library and taking notes. Writing down the sections that seemed most promising, key words that appeared often, passages that weren’t explained well enough for him to understand. It felt like he was working on a high school science paper and, while Jaehwan hadn’t actually enjoyed school all that much and didn’t consider himself overly intelligent, he found the reading enjoyable. Maybe it was just because it gave him hope. And hope was enough to keep him going, for now anyway.

Instead of torturing himself rereading Sanghyuk’s death records, Jaehwan switched tactics again. He pulled up google and began trying to find the significance of May 20th.

According to a numerology website, the number 520 (or, the Angel Number 520, whatever the fuck that meant) was associated with major life changes, adaptability, and infinity.

_‘…Angel Number 520 is a message to stay centered and balanced through current life changes and trust that they are for your highest good. Expect solutions and answers to appear to assist you with adjustments in your life. You are being presented with opportunities to better your life in many ways… Angel Number 520 is a message to remain focused and calm through these changes and have faith and trust that positive opportunities and love and happiness will enter your life in abundance… Angel Number 520 appearing repeatedly tells you that your expected changes may come about sooner than expected and in unexpected or unusual ways…’_

That sounded like a load of fucking nonsense to Jaehwan. He clicked away from numerology and ended up on Wikipedia.

“Coffee,” Hongbin repeated, padding back into the living room with two steaming mugs in hand. She set them down on coasters (that were actually just cracked cd cases) and plopped onto the couch, curling up against Jaehwan’s side. Jaehwan resisted the very strong urge to shove her away. It was too early in the morning to fight. “Thanks.”

“What are you reading?”

“Things from history that happened on May twentieth.”

Hongbin clicked her tongue. “That’s the day you left.”

“I didn’t leave, I-“ Jaehwan cut himself off, gluing his eyes to his computer screen. _Too early to fight._

Scanning down the Wikipedia page for may twentieth, Jaehwan began to read.

_1631_ _– The city of_ _Magdeburg_ _in Germany is seized by forces of the_ _Holy Roman Empire_ _and most of its inhabitants_ _massacred_ _, in one of the bloodiest incidents of the_ _Thirty Years' War_ _._

 _1645_ _–_ _Yangzhou massacre_ _: The ten day massacre of 800,000 residents of the city of_ _Yangzhou_ _, part of the_ _Transition from Ming to Qing_ _._

 _1802_ _– By the_ _Law of 20 May 1802_ _,_ _Napoleon Bonaparte_ _reinstates_ _slavery_ _in the_ _French colonies_ _, revoking its abolition in the_ _French Revolution_ _._

 _1883_ _–_ _Krakatoa_ _begins to erupt_ _; the volcano explodes three months later, killing more than 36,000 people._

 _1940_ _–_ _The Holocaust_ _: The first prisoners arrive at a new_ _concentration camp_ _at_ _Auschwitz_ _._

 _1956_ _– In_ _Operation Redwing_ _, the first United States airborne_ _hydrogen bomb_ _is dropped over_ _Bikini Atoll_ _in the Pacific Ocean._

 _1971_ _– In the_ _Chuknagar massacre_ _, Pakistani forces massacre thousands, mostly Bengali Hindus._

 _1983_ _– First publications of the discovery of the_ _HIV_ _virus_ _that causes_ _AIDS_ _in the journal_ _Science_ _by_ _Luc Montagnier_ _._

 _2012_ _– At least 27 people are killed and 50 others injured when a_ _6.0-magnitude earthquake_ _strikes northern Italy._

 _2013_ _– An_ _EF5_ _tornado_ _strikes the_ _Oklahoma City_ _suburb of_ _Moore_ _, killing 24 people and injuring 377 others._

May twentieth really was fucking cursed. Reading through the list of atrocities made Jaehwan’s eyes begin to burn.

“Why did you feel the need to good this at 4:30 in the morning?” Hongbin asked, taking small sips of her coffee. Holding the mug in both hands.

“I want to learn more about what happened. And why.”

“Me too.”

Jaehwan closed his mouth.

“You could help me with that, you know. By actually telling me what happened,” Hongbin urged.

Jaehwan snagged his own mug and gulped down a mouthful, the artificial sweetness tasting foreign and slightly gross after a year of _real_ coffee. He’d decided the moment he was dragged back to this house that he wouldn’t be telling anyone the story of what had happened to him. Not even Hongbin. No reason to get himself thrown back into the mental hospital. Because even if he did try and explain, who in their right mind would believe him?

**⋊⋈⋈⋈⋈⋈⋉**

Jaehwan woke in a cold sweat. Hair matted and damp, stuck to his forehead. T-shirt clinging to his skin.

He sat bolt upright, chest heaving, pulse thrumming, images of Sanghyuk’s beautiful body slowly cooling on the floor of his living room still vibrant in Jaehwan’s mind’s eye. It was so vivid, _frighteningly_ clear. So much blood.

“Baby, you’re okay, just try and breathe.”

Hongbin was next to him. Again. Smoothing the sticky strands from his face and trying to calm him down. It didn’t help. It _never_ helped. If anything, Hongbin’s presence just made Jaehwan feel worse. Compounded his powerlessness. Jaehwan had lost Hongbin, mourned Hongbin, and finally moved on from Hongbin. Having Hongbin there _now_ was just some cruel cosmic joke.

This isn’t what Jaehwan wanted. He didn’t want to be in his old house with this ghost of a life that no longer felt like his own. He didn’t want people he called family to tiptoe around him anymore, didn’t want to dread each moment knowing everything could be torn away again, Jaehwan just wanted to stop being afraid.

He’d been back in the present for almost a month, trying to cope with this and get past it. But Jaehwan had the same nightmare of Sanghyuk’s death every night since he read that newspaper clipping. And that didn’t feel like fear. It felt like a _portent._ A calling. Someone, somewhere, telling him to get his ass back to the past so he could put the situation to rights.

Jaehwan couldn’t stand it for a single moment longer. Something in him had snapped.

“Get off,” Jaehwan replied, no real venom in the words. He wasn’t even mad at Hongbin right then, he was too focused to be mad. His entire world condensing down into a single thought. _I have to save Sanghyuk._

It wasn’t May 20th, in fact it was June 30th, but why should that matter? Time, dates, it was all just a fucking illusion, a construct to make his lizard brain feel like there was some sense of order to the universe. There wasn’t, there isn’t, there won’t be. The universe was fucking _chaos._ Jaehwan was about to embrace that chaos.

He was taking back the reigns of his life.

_Maybe,_ Jaehwan mused, pulling a dark blue hoodie on over his still sticky t-shirt, maybe all those times he’d visited the bench in the beginning hadn’t worked because he hadn’t had a purpose. He’d _wanted_ to come home, sure, but he hadn’t _needed_ to. There was no _reason_ for him to travel.

It was like Jaehwan had to be shown a positive to finally be able to see the negative.

Hongbin was a great person, and they’d been great together for years, but that time was passed now. Hongbin knew that as well as Jaehwan, she just didn’t want to admit it. They shared the same fear, that crippling aversion to being alone. Jaehwan wasn’t scared of being alone anymore. He was scared of not having Sanghyuk in his life. Something inside him really _had_ changed.

“Are you leaving?! It’s two in the fucking morning Hwannie, don’t be an idiot!” Hongbin exclaimed, rolling out of bed and jogging after Jaehwan into the living room.

_Gotta just rip the Band-Aid off._

“Bin, listen to me, I’m being serious now.”

Jaehwan stopped right before the front door, turning to look his ex-girlfriend in the eye.

“You need to move on. None of this-“ vague hand waving around at the furniture “-is real. You dumped me, I got over you. It’s done. Don’t hang around here waiting for me to come back again, alright? It won’t do you any good.”

“I didn’t _dump_ you; I just wanted to give you a break-“

“Hongbin! You literally face-timed me a week before I left and told me we weren’t going to work out! The only reason you even agreed to have a conversation in person about it was because I _begged_ for one!” _Oh,_ and didn’t talking about this fucking _hurt._ Just drive the knife in deeper.

“Yeah, and then you disappeared for _a year,_ Jaehwan! And I had a year to worry about what happened to you and if you’d been kidnapped or murdered and think about how you were only at the bus terminal to begin with because you were coming to see me!”

That gave Jaehwan a moments pause.

“Are you- do you feel guilty?” he asked, slightly startled by this new revelation. It didn’t derail his plans for the next hour, but it certainly put the past month into perspective.

“Of _course,_ I feel fucking guilty! I’m the one who left you here and moved away, I’m the one who asked you to visit and didn’t return the favor, and I’m the one who tried to end things between us! Literally everything that went wrong in our relationship is my fault!”

“That’s not true. You were following your dreams and I was just holding you back,” Jaehwan replied, “You were right to end it.”

“No, I _wasn’t!”_ Always defensive when she was upset, so nobody would see how much she was hurting inside.

Jaehwan put a hand on her cheek, _old habits die hard_ he supposed. “Just listen to me, Bin. I’m going to go now. And if what I’m planning works, you’ll never see me again. None of this is your fault or my fault or anyone’s fault, but I _have_ to do it, okay? I have to try. I want you to go back to school and live your life, and I don’t want you to feel anymore guilt. This is my decision.”

“Where is it that you think you’re going exactly?!” Hongbin fisted the hem of Jaehwan’s sweatshirt, like she wanted to physically hold him back.

Jaehwan let his hand drop. He looked away from her (had to look away otherwise he might accidentally start crying), and snagged Muffin’s leash from the hook on the wall. Speaking of Muffin, the puppy was jumping up and down by their feet, sleepy but still very excited at the prospect of an excursion.

“I’m taking the dog for a walk. That’s all you need to know, Bin. And if I don’t come back, try googling ‘Lee Jaehwan 1920’. Might come up with something.”

That was the least he could do, send Hongbin a message from the past. Maybe he could publish something. A novel or a short story and dedicate it to Hongbin so she would know. Oh, and that was another thing- “Before I forget, will you publish the rest of my webcomic? You don’t have to like do it in installments or anything, but I reworked it and made an ending. It’s only four chapters. Don’t want to leave my readers hanging. And you know all my passwords.”

“Jaehwan, you _cannot_ be serious!”

“Serious as a heart attack.” Jaehwan stood up straight and leaned in, brushing his lips against Hongbin’s forehead. “Stay safe and stay strong for me, okay? Everything is going to be fine.”

Not trusting himself to wait there any longer lest he change his mind, Jaehwan slid his socked feet into a pair of sneakers, pulled open the front door, and walked out. He didn’t trust himself to look back either. No looking, no texting his parent’s goodbye, no more contact that could derail his plan now.

Instead of bothering with the subway, Jaehwan hailed a cab. He held Muffin on his lap as they drove along the darken streets, looking out the window at the present for what he hoped would be the last time. His heart was racing, each beat sounding like _‘save him’, ‘save him’, ‘save him’._

Jaehwan _was_ going to save him. He’d save Sanghyuk and they could grow old together, watch the world change. And Jaehwan’s knowledge of the future might come in a bit handy where investing was concerned. They’d have a good life, a full life, and want for nothing. ‘Rocking chairs and glasses of sweet tea on the porch’ kind of a life.

The bus terminal wasn’t closed but it was almost entirely empty. Jaehwan didn’t bother buying a ticket, he didn’t need to look like he belonged, he wasn’t staying.

He and Muffin jogged down the long line of shelters until he came to the very last one, mind full of Sanghyuk’s face. How Sanghyuk looked in the morning right when he woke up, tousled hair and puffy eyes. Adorable.

Jaehwan sat on the bench and scooped his puppy into his arms. Slipping a hand into his hoodie pocket and enclosing the pocket watch Sanghyuk had given him in his fist. A tangible tether to the past. Something to guide him on his travels. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, trying to focus as hard as was humanly possible.

_I need to save Sanghyuk. I am going to save Sanghyuk. I am going to blink, and when I open my eyes I will be exactly where I left from. Sitting on a green wooden bench in the year 1921._

Jaehwan opened his eyes, whispered a quiet goodbye to his old life, and then shut them.

The world went quiet.

The bus shelter was empty.

_He vanished._

**Author's Note:**

> The city Hyuken live in wasn’t explicitly stated, but I modeled it after San Francisco, which is where I live so I know it well. Hongbin’s college is in Sacramento, which is in fact about a two hour drive away. Sanghyuk and his family originally lived in South Carolina (exact location unspecified) and then moved to Fresno County, a relatively rich agricultural region in central California. 
> 
> Club Fantasia (not a real place, I made it up lol) was inspired by a bar that has been operating since 1867, now called Bourbon and Branch. During the Prohibition era, it masqueraded as JJ Russel Cigar shop, while actually doing deals with Canadian bootleggers out of Vancouver and serving customers on the sly. Some current pictures of the bar can be found [Here](https://www.thrillist.com/drink/san-francisco/the-tenderloin/how-to-get-into-bourbon-and-branch-main-bar-library-russels-room-ipswitch-wilson)
> 
> Taekwoon’s kinky lingerie designs/concept are inspired by Yva Richard and Diana Slip, two french kinkwear companies from the 1920’s, photos of which you can find [Here](https://www.pinterest.com/chelseabts/1920s-kinkwear/)
> 
> \-------------
> 
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